Run Like, Um Hell?
by Indee
Summary: A spell gone awry sends feuding Harry Potter and Draco Malfoy onto an island filled with dragon halfbreeds, devil's snare and terrifying natives. How will they get back to England? Will they want to go back? PostHBP, HarryDraco
1. Me And My Big Mouth

Air wheezed in and out of his lungs as his feet pounded the ground. Bright light, duck and cover, keep running. Keep running. An explosion of rubble fell around him and he stumbled, a rock hitting him hard in the shoulder. Keep running. His legs ached and burned, his vision was slightly blinded and now his shoulder was throbbing painfully. Keep running. He was almost there. He turned a corner sharply and ran through the heavy wards, feeling them press against him for a moment before he pushed through. The red and white flag came into view and he ran faster despite his aching legs. He burst through the tent flaps and staggered to a halt.

"Harry!" Hermione rushed over and grabbed onto his arm as he bent double, breathing hard. "Harry, what is it?"

"Reinforcements," he wheezed, clutching a stitch in his side.

"For us?" Hermione asked, looking hopeful. Harry grimaced and shook his head.

"For them. Tons. I don't know how many. A hundred maybe," Harry said and let Hermione guide him over to a chair. All the beds in the makeshift infirmary were full and the tent smelled of blood and rot. "If Ron and Ginny don't –"

"They'll be here," Hermione said, clearly trying very hard to be optimistic but tears were welling up in her eyes and Harry struggled to look at his best friend.

"If they don't get here soon, we're finished. Death Eaters as good as won."

"Don't say that! He won't win, not ever. Ron and Ginny will _be _here."

"You don't know that," Harry said, his eyes following a few green clad healers as they carried in another grotesquely deformed body. Harry couldn't even tell if the person was alive. "They're already two days late. We have no way of contacting them and for all we know they could be…" he choked slightly, not wanting to speak what had been on his mind for the past week.

"Harry, listen to me. We're in the middle of a war. For them to be late – it's normal. They're not…"

"Normal? Hermione, nothing about this is normal."

"I know, Harry, it's just… I don't want… They can't be dead. They just can't."

Harry stared at Hermione before standing up. "I have to get back out there. I have to try."

"Wait, here," Hermione handed him a few vials and Harry tucked them into the holding belt he had been wearing for past few days. He never took it off. It held a great variety of different colored vials and it was important that all of the soldiers wore them. Harry nodded at Hermione, before leaving the tent and breathing in. He could never stand being in the infirmary tent for very long. The sights, sounds and smells made him feel sick to his stomach.

There was an explosion somewhere on the other side of the castle and Harry watched in horror as a whole tower collapsed, shaking the ground. In the last few days, Hogwarts had turned into nothing but a pile of rubble. A casualty of war.

"Harry!" Seamus Finnigan darted through the wards and stood very much like Harry had a few moments ago. Bent over and panting. "The Death Eaters are advancing. The frontline is –"

"Advancing? Why would they be advancing? There's nothing to advance on!"

"I think they're looking for something."

"Me," Harry sighed and rubbed his neck. This wasn't good. And yet… "Get Jones working on a new ward. I want all the soldiers we can out there. The Death Eaters have given us an opportunity to take as many of them out as possible and we're taking it." Seamus nodded and dashed off again. Harry jogged through the ward and around the side of the castle.

Indeed the Death Eaters were advancing. There were four or five lines of them pressing forward, fighting and killing. Harry assessed the situation before running out into the field.

"Take out the one's on the ends! Get them to huddle!"

"But, Sir, that's –"

"Just do it!" Harry yelled, before pausing and looking up at the castle. He turned and spotted a few stragglers. "You two! I want you up in the castle. Get to the highest point you can, got that? I'm going out and I need some cover fire! And don't get spotted!" The two boys – as they could hardly be called men – Harry had spoken to nodded and took off into the rubble of the castle.

Harry sighed. "Let's hope this buys us some time," he muttered to himself.

Harry had only been actively involved in the war for a week. He was hardly a trained soldier and was simply running on instincts. Luckily, it seemed to have worked so far. Harry had never been much of a planner but in the last few days his leadership skills had outshone others by far and everyone listened to him without questioning him for the most part.

Harry ducked behind a large stone that had fallen from the castle as a curse was sent his way. He looked up at the castle and spotted the boys he'd sent up there looking down at him. He nodded and pointed towards himself and then the battlefield. He looked out from behind the stone and saw that his orders were being followed and the Death Eaters on the edges of their lines were dropping and the Death Eaters were huddling in the center.

Harry darted out from behind his rock and grabbed a hold of one of the higher ups. "Get everyone in lines! Offense, not defense!" he yelled over the battle, not waiting for the man to respond before he weaved in and out of dead bodies and soldiers. The soldiers were forming the lines he'd ordered quickly and fighting hard.

Standing still a moment, Harry took a deep breath. He glanced up at the castle before he broke through the recently formed line and stood in front of his soldiers. He made sure that the Death Eaters got a clear view of him and had to pull some quick moves to duck a burst of spells that came flying in his direction. The boys in the castle ruins picked off the Death Eaters that got too close.

Once Harry had a clean break, he took it and darted past the Death Eaters, taking out as many as he could while he ran into the forest. It had worked as he had planned. The Death Eaters weren't intent on killing the dwindling number of wizards working against them, they were aiming for Harry and he'd drawn their attention away from the soldiers. Which wasn't very smart on their part, because with their backs turned a good number of them fell.

Harry was looking over his shoulder and weaving through tree's when he ran hard into someone. He drew his wand before recognizing the bright red hair and his face broke out in a grin. He breathed a sigh of relief. Ron looked tired and exhausted, while Ginny looked a bit jumpy.

"What're you doing out here?" Ron asked, steadying himself from his and Harry's collision.

"Improvising," Harry said with a slight grin. "We were being slaughtered. We needed a distraction."

"And you're the distraction?"

"Who else?" Harry ignored the looks he was getting from Ginny. "Did you get it?"

Ron nodded and dug in his pocket for a moment before pulling out a small dagger with the crest of Ravenclaw on it. "Sorry it took so long, mate. There were more Death Eaters guarding it than I expected and Ginny got hit in the shoulder with a degenerative."

Harry turned his attention to the red haired girl who was looking into the forest, her wand raised. It was then Harry noticed she was holding it with her left hand instead of her right, as she usually did. "She's alright though? You got it off…"

"Mostly. I managed to slow it down until we got to the infirmary. I'm no healer," Ron said, sending a concerned look in Ginny's direction. "Can barely use that arm, though. Anyway, what're we waiting for? Let's get out of here."

Harry nodded but they found themselves in quite a predicament. The Death Eaters had followed him all right. Ginny backed up and took out as many as she could until she was standing beside Harry.

"Got a plan, genius?" she asked, her eyes darting here and there as the Death Eaters advanced. Something was definitely wrong, however. They weren't attacking at all. Even if they wanted Harry alive, their first instinct should have been to take out Ron and Ginny whom stood on either side of him. Then the Death Eaters shifted and a place in the middle broke. A tall Death Eater, obviously a woman, was pushing a smaller Death Eater forward.

"Prove your loyalties," the woman snapped before shoving the Death Eater. Harry raised an eyebrow and glanced at Ron, who was looking slightly bemused. Especially when the Death Eater tore off their mask and Harry found himself looking at Draco Malfoy.

"Fantastic," Harry muttered. He stood staring at Malfoy for quite a while. He was hesitating. Just like he had with Dumbledore. Well, at least this gave him some time to think. They couldn't apparate and there were too many Death Eaters to simply run. Harry bit his lip and his eyes followed the line of Death Eaters before landing on Malfoy.

Malfoy stepped forward and raised a shaky wand, his eyes wide. Harry had never dropped his and stood, staring hard at whom once had been a simple rival to him. It was obvious who had the upper hand, and surprisingly it wasn't Malfoy. He seemed jittery and afraid, while Harry was calm and stone cold. This wouldn't help him any, but at least he could anticipate Malfoy's movements.

"_Tempus Embolium!" _

"_Tractus Amitto!" _

Harry was startled at the reaction the colliding spells had. Harry didn't know what Malfoy had cast, but his spell was to send away the Death Eaters. He'd been concentrating on some remote, tiny island far, far away from Hogwarts. It was an extremely complicated spell, one Harry had suggested to Hermione once before and she nearly had his head for simply suggesting it. Too many things could go wrong with it. But being cornered, he was desperate to get rid of at least Malfoy.

A golden light engulfed both Harry and Malfoy, singling them out from the other Death Eaters and Ron and Ginny. They seemed just as startled by the spell and were stepping away, as though afraid the two boys might explode sometime soon. A wave of energy from the center of the connecting spells sent everyone with a five-meter vicinity flying backwards. Harry hit a tree hard, cracking his skull against it.

Suddenly there was a bang and an immensely bright light blinded Harry. He blinked but couldn't see and eventually the light became so white and so intense that he had to close his eyes tightly. He felt as though he was being torn apart piece by piece and there was wind whistling through his ears.

"Ugh," Malfoy grunted nearby. There was a rustling, and Harry opened his eyes but found his vision blurry and spotty. He was sore and stiff, as though he'd been lying on the ground for much longer than he had. He pushed himself up and went to use the tree to steady himself from ended up toppling over because the tree was no longer there.

"I think I'm dead," Harry moaned.

"I think if we'd have died, it wouldn't hurt so bloody much."

"What the hell happened?" Harry asked, rubbing at his eyes and heard his glasses splinter as he moved them. He groaned. He knew he should've learned that vision correcting charm, but no, he had been too stubborn, going on about how he liked his glasses. Hermione had told him it might come in handy, and so he had only half-heartedly listened to what she was saying about it. Even as he struggled, he couldn't remember the charm. Bugger.

"Holy mother of Merlin!" Malfoy said from a few feet away from Harry. He peered blearily in the direction of the voice, but could only see a shadow of a figure that he assumed was the Death Eater. Strangely, Harry knew he should've been on his guard around Malfoy, especially now that he couldn't see, but he felt unusually unthreatened by the other boy's presence.

"What? I can't bloody see!" Harry went to move towards Malfoy, wand gripped tightly in hand, when his foot sunk in what felt like sand. Sand in the forest? Suddenly, Harry was aware of the faint calming sound of water lapping at a shoreline. Maybe they were closer to the lake than he'd thought. Without warning, his vision cleared and he was aware of Malfoy standing only a few feet in front of him with a wand pointed at his head.

Jumping back, Harry pointed his wand at Malfoy, but Malfoy only rolled his eyes and slipped his wand up his sleeve.

"I just fixed your vision, you moron," he snapped irritably. Harry warily lowered his wand. His vision _was_ better, after all. And now with his vision corrected, he could properly look around and see what damage their mixed spells had done.

Harry nearly fainted.

The jungle that loomed before them wasn't so frightening. A little difference in foliage from the Forbidden Forest, but it wasn't anything completely strange and foreign. It was the fact that, when Harry turned around, a beach lay in front of him, running as far as the eye could see both left and right. And before them, water lapped at the edge. They had some how ended up on an ocean-side beach.

Harry realized then that his moving spell must have transported them somewhere when it'd connected with Malfoy's spell. He'd been thinking of an island when he'd cast it. A remote island as far from Hogwarts as possible.

"Oh, _bugger._"


	2. World's Worst Beach Party

**Author's Notes: **I hope you all enjoyed the last chapter enough to continue on. I very much appreciate reviews, so if you've read thus far and liked (or didn't like) my story, please review with praise, flames, constructive criticism, or anything you feel I should know. Please enjoy!

* * *

"Huh."

Draco was dazed and confused. What had Potter gotten them into now? It was painfully hot. Draco hated beaches. He hated sun. It burned his skin and made him look like an onion. He also hated forests. Especially large, unfamiliar and daunting jungles. He glanced over at Potter and scowled. This was his entire fault. Draco had only been trying to get them out of that messed. He'd been trying to _help _Potter, Heaven forbid, but then Potter had to botch it all up by thinking he was attacking and casting some funny spell Draco hadn't heard before. Which was saying something, because Draco had gone through spell book after spell book looking for something to get him out of this whole war mess. He'd never wanted to be in it to begin with, but now here he was on a deserted island with his greatest enemy in the world.

Sweat began to drip down his forehead and he scowled. Great. Now he was _sweating. _Malfoys didn't sweat! It was unbecoming and wet and disgusting. He needed to get out of this mess and fast, because he could practically feel his skin burning as he stood there. There was only one way to get off a strange, foreign desert island. Apparating. He went to concentrate on good old practically sunless Scotland, but a 'pop' startled him and he noticed that Potter was gone. His scowl deepened. Even if Potter had been the first to apparate, he was sure _he _had thought of it first.

And as he went to again concentrate on the crumbled Hogwarts, another 'pop' startled him and it was quickly followed by an 'oof' as Potter tumbled into the sand. His eyes narrowed. Why had he come back? Perhaps he'd botched it. Of course he had, Potter hadn't half a brain to apparate properly and so far away. He'd probably apparated himself into the middle of the ocean and had to come back before he drowned. Draco folded his arms and once again concentrated on Scotland. He felt the familiar darkness swell and with a 'pop' he was gone.

Quite suddenly, he was being thrown backwards and he, too, tumbled into sand. And Potter was there, snorting in laughter at him. Stupid Potter. But he hadn't time to think of that. How come he couldn't apparate? This must be some sort of wizard's tropical island paradise and had probably put anti-apparition wards on it. Well, he'd just have to go and find the wizard that owned the place, perhaps get some sort of balm for his burning flesh, and go back home. He looked around, hoping to find some clue as to which way he should go, but found nothing. Just an expanse of large, scary jungle and sand. Lots and lots of sand. He sighed heavily.

"I could've told you that you couldn't apparate out of here," Potter said, suddenly very close to him. Draco lurched away from the scarred boy and gave his most threatening and upset scowl. He did _not _like his private space to be invaded, especially by spectacled, annoying Boy Wonders. "Why aren't you killing me?"

Draco choked, torn between laughing and shock. Only Potter would think so highly of himself to think that anyone who wasn't his friend or close ally would be trying to kill him. Draco wondered vaguely if Potter even had half a brain. How had he honestly survived so many attacks from Voldemort? "I'm not killing you because it probably wouldn't help getting me off an island in the middle of nowhere," he stated, giving Potter a look of incredible boredom. "And you'll note that I didn't cast 'Avada Kedavra' back in the forest. If I'd wanted to kill you, I'd have done it then."

Potter looked confused. Trust Potter to get confused at the simplest of things.

"So you don't want to kill me?"

Draco sighed exasperatedly. If he wasn't so keen on getting off this blasted island, he might've killed Potter right then just for being annoying and stupid. Voldemort had the right idea of wanting to cleanse the earth, but Draco thought he probably should've changed muggles and muggleborns to immensely stupid people. Like Potter. If _he _ever decided to become an evil overlord, that would be what he'd want to do. People would probably thank him, too. Shower him with gifts and such. But now was certainly not the time to be thinking on world domination.

"Potter, would you do us both a favor, and go into that jungle and die?" Draco said, sounding very tired of all this. "Let me think." Potter seemed a lost, ugly puppy, and Draco rolled his eyes. He trudged off in the direction of the jungle, hoping for some shade that would shelter him from the sweltering heat. Why couldn't they have been stranded on a not-so-tropical island? Maybe one in the North Atlantic.

The heat wasn't any better in the shade. The jungle was eerily quiet and shivers went up Draco's spine, which was certainly not caused by any breeze, since there wasn't any. He was sure he should've heard some sort of bird baying or monkeys or something, but there was nothing. Except Potter's slow footsteps as he dragged himself over to where Draco had sat. Couldn't the boy leave him alone for a few seconds?

Potter sat in the sand only a few feet away from Draco, and lay back, spreading his limbs out. With a roll of his eyes, Draco turned his attention to the dark of the forest. He had a small epiphany and he pulled out his wand again, hoping that magic could tell him where they were. First, he set his wand on his palm and waited for it to indicate which way was north. Apparently north was directly behind him, the wand pointing far into the jungle. Then he cast a spell that summoned a small translucent globe and a red light appeared in what should have been there location. Somewhere in South Pacific. But then, the red light bounced from the South Pacific, to the North Pacific. And then to the South Atlantic. Then it darted around and landed in the Black Sea, and Draco put his head in his hand. Apparently, magic was not keen on working correctly on this strange island.

The light was now blinking in the middle of Russia. They were certainly _not _in Russia.

"Well, that didn't work," Potter said, who was staring in fascination at the floating globe. Draco scowled at the scarred boy, before waving his wand and canceling the spell. They couldn't apparate, nor could they even identify where they were. Grumpily, Draco stood up and peered into the forest. He was thirsty and there wasn't any fresh water source nearby that he could see. They'd have to search for one. It was going to take him a long time to figure this one out, and he certainly didn't want to spend that time on a beach that was bound to burn his flesh right off.

As he started into the jungle, a hand gripped his wrist and he turned sharply to face Potter, who was staring intently at him. He shivered again, and again this was not caused by any sort of breeze. In truth, he couldn't figure out what had caused him to shiver. He grimaced when he realized Potter's hands were sweaty, and pulled his wrist promptly out of the boy's grip.

"What?" he snapped irritably, folding his arms over his chest and scowling.

"Are you sure you should go in there?" Potter said, peering past Draco and into the dark, threatening looking jungle. "I mean – we don't know where we are much less what might be in there."

Draco sighed exasperatedly, wishing that, if he _had _to be stuck on an island, he could have been stuck with someone who wasn't so entirely stupid.

"Potter, I'm a fully trained wizard, as are you. There's nothing in that jungle that could possibly harm _us_," Draco said reassuringly, possibly more for his own sake than Potter's, though he felt slightly abashed at the thought that Potter didn't even think he could handle himself in this situation. He would certainly prove _him _wrong. "Really," Draco said with a roll of his eyes. "You'd think you were eleven years old."

And with that, Draco turned on his heel, nearly falling back into the sand but managing a save that rescued both himself and his dignity, and stomped forward into the jungle. He had only gone a few meters into the jungle when he found himself needing to cast _Lumos_ to see anything that wasn't a foot in front of him. Despite the darkness, it was still muggy and hot, and before long, Draco found his clothes sticking to him most uncomfortably.

There was a snap of a twig somewhere behind him, and Draco turned and with a start, realized he'd lost his view of the beach completely. Darkness enclosed around him, he suddenly began to feel a bit Closterphobic. There was stomping and branches breaking, and Draco couldn't tell which direction it was coming from. His heart leapt into his throat, and he gripped his wand tighter. He wasn't afraid of anything this jungle held in store, certainly not. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck, not from being particularly frightened, but from being particularly hot.

"You could have waited for me," Potter's voice said suddenly from behind Draco, and he jumped slightly at the intrusion, before getting an overwhelming urge to find a very large stick and beat the Gryffindor with it. "I've marked the tree's so we can find our way back if we have to," Potter added, looking faintly amused at Draco's startled expression, causing a scowl to cloud the Death Eater's features.

"Fantastic," Draco said sarcastically, before turning and beginning his valiant march north. It took nearly an hour before they found themselves hiking upward and out of the jungle. Before long, they came to a large hill, of which when they stood at the top, they could see down onto the beach they had come from, and into an eastern valley that stretched north. They could also faintly see a stream running from one end of the valley to another, and Draco promptly decided to head that way. Potter was of another mind, however.

"Look," Potter said, just as Draco began heading towards the valley. "Just beyond the hills there."

Potter was pointing north, and Draco followed his line of vision. Draco noted that this island was abysmally large, and there was a range of hills perhaps five kilometers from where they stood. Just beyond the hills, however, there was a stream of smoke trailing upwards and dissipating into the sky. Draco was indignant about Potter's discovery, but he had to admit heading to the smoke was probably the best idea, since smoke usually indicated people.

Still, Draco shoved his hands into his pockets and looked sour. "We should head into the valley. There's no way we could make it there before dark, anyway. Because this is all your fault, I think I should get to decide."

Potter whirled around to face Draco, and he realized that this was probably not a smart thing to say when all alone with one's enemy.

"_My _fault?" Potter said, his voice rising, but he still looked vaguely guilty. "I think this is both of our faults. Our spells reacted with each other and sent us here." After a moment's pause, in which Draco rolled his eyes and folded his arms over his chest, Potter spoke again. "What spell did you cast, anyway?"

Draco stared at Potter for a moment before deciding it was safe to answer. "A time stopping spell."

Potter, unsurprisingly, gaped at him like a guppy out of water.

"A _time _stopping spell? That's dark magic!"

"It is not," Draco grumped. "It would only have been dark magic if I had planned on stopping time and killing you while you were frozen."

"Weren't you?"

"Of course not, you git. I already told you I have no intention of killing you. Ever," he added for effect, relishing in the look Potter gave him. He looked as dumb and confused as one could possibly ever look. "I planned on stopping time and _leaving. _The war is stupid and I want nothing to do with it."

"Nothing to do with it? You practically killed Dumbledore!" Potter said, recovering from his moment of surprise.

"One, I _didn't _kill Dumbledore, Snape did. Two, both Snape and Dumbledore are expert Occlumens and Legillimens. Snape said that Dumbledore practically begged him to kill him," Draco said, raising his chin ever so higher as though he were much better informed and much more important than Potter. "And three, I was protecting my family. If you _had _a family, you might know what that's like."

Draco knew exactly when he crossed the line, because soon after he had said this, his nose was throbbing painfully, and blood dripped down his chin. Of course Potter would resort to childish violence. It seemed to make Potter feel better though, since he looked considerably more cheerful.

"I suppose we can go into the valley first then and make camp."

"Gread," Draco said, trying to stop his bloody nose. It took every amount of self-control he possessed to keep himself from hexing Potter into oblivion. Potter started off down the hill and towards the valley with the stream, and Draco had no choice but to follow him.

"What spell did _you _cast?" Draco asked, once he had successfully stopped his nose from bleeding and they were deep into the eerily quiet jungle again. He only spoke to break the unnatural silence. Since they had begun their hike, he hadn't seen any birds. Not even any insects. It was strange and somewhat alarming, but had pushed this as far as possible into the back of his mind. Potter began to walk quicker after Draco had asked his question, and cleared his throat uncomfortably. Potter mumbled something that Draco couldn't hear.

"What did you say?" Draco pestered, moving closer to Potter as to hear him better.

"I said I cast an object moving spell."

Puzzled, Draco ventured to question exactly what Potter meant by 'object moving spell'.

"I tried to move you and the rest of the Death Eaters away from Hogwarts. I was sort of thinking of an island as far away from Scotland as possible. Um," Potter continued, and Draco halted, suddenly feeling very, _very _angry. "… An island that they, um… Couldn't exactly get off of."

Potter nearly lost an ear when a large rock came whizzing past his head, and he turned to face a very angry, and very affronted looking Draco.

"This _IS _all your fault!" Draco shouted in distress, a shout that echoed through the empty jungle. "Do you know how complicated that kind of spell is? Do you know how many people have actually completed a spell like that _properly_? And it's never supposed to be used on people! Now look! We're stuck in a jungle God _knows _where, and it's _all your fault!" _Draco threw another rock at the last word, which would have caught Harry in the chin had he not ducked.

Quite suddenly, there was a large crash from the direction in which they had just come. Both boys jumped and Draco swung around. The canopy of the tree's was swaying in a non-existent breeze, and there was yet another crash. And another. It was growing steadily closer, and Draco backed up until he was standing just a little behind Potter. He wasn't a coward; he was just making sure that whatever it was ate the Boy Wonder first.

Just as suddenly as the crashing had started, it stopped. There was a moment of completely silence, where the underbrush rustled and out burst the strangest thing Draco had ever seen. It certainly did not look harmless, however it did look very – playful. The thing bounded towards the two boys and Draco shoved Potter towards it.

You see, what Draco was looking at was what was commonly known as a Dragon Half-breed. A very rare specimen, it is something that is nearly impossible to create. This one was particularly startling because of the images it conjured in one's mind. It appeared, at first, to be a dog. A very large dog, whose head nearly came up to Draco's chin when it was standing on all four paws. But as it drew closer, one could see the fine details of the scales that covered its massive body, from its nose right to the tip of it's wagging tail. To add to this startling image, it had reptilian green eyes and two large wings lying flat against it's back.

"What the hell?" Potter said, trying to move away from the half-breed, but Draco stopped him with his hands pressed against the other boy's back, hoping that, if the animal were hungry, it would take Potter and hopefully fill up on the Boy Who Lived. It opened its immensely large mouth and barked so loudly, it left Draco's eardrums ringing.

"I think we should kill it," Draco said quietly as not to anger the strange beast.

"Don't be stupid," Potter said and suddenly stopped pressing against Draco's hand. He moved forward towards the dragon-dog-thing, and Draco slunk even further away, scrunching up his face and closing one eye, not wishing to see the beast devour Potter. The beast gambled forward towards Potter, and Potter gambled forward towards it. It happened so quickly, Draco was unsure if he had seen correctly.

The dragon-dog-thing began licking Potter's face like any normal dog would, and Potter began scratched the dragon-dog-thing behind the ears. Draco gaped. He couldn't help it. Only Potter would be stupid enough to approach a dragon half-breed like that. However, the monstrous dog seemed friendly enough and Draco ventured cautiously forward. Suddenly the beast looked at him and barked, and Draco scrambled away.

"We should leave," he suggested shakily.

"What should we do with it?" Potter asked, glancing back at Draco and indicating the dragon half-breed. Draco stared incredulously.

"Uh. Leave it?" he said as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. He decided to take the moment while the beast was distracted by Potter to make a dash ahead. He didn't need Potter tagging along anyway. Before long, Potter was walking alongside him (albeit a few feet away). Draco bit the inside of his cheek and ignored the fact that he was leading the dragon half-breed along with them.


	3. Wet Blanket

To keep themselves occupied while they trudged through the thick jungle towards the stream in the deep valley, Harry and Malfoy were currently listing off names for the friendly, albeit slightly scary looking, dragon-dog-thing that was avidly following them, it's tongue lolling out of its mouth as it bounded in front of them, and then returned several times.

"Drago," Malfoy suggested.

"That's too close to _your _name," Harry objected. "Not to mention a horrible name."

Malfoy made a strange strangled cry of protest.

"Horatio."

"Are you insane?"

"Sebastian, then."

"What is _wrong _with you?"

"They're perfectly normal names!"

"What if it's a girl?"

"Why don't you go check?"

There was a pause as the dragon-dog-thing bounded up to Harry once more. Harry was sure he'd never seen such a long tongue.

"How am I supposed to tell?"

"I don't know. I never did like dragons."

"You're name is _Draco_."

"So?"

Harry sighed exasperatedly. The dragon-dog-thing woofed happily and licked Harry's hand.

"Maybe it's genderless."

"You're only saying that so you don't have to check."

They walked on in silence. Harry tried to figure out if it was a boy or girl as they walked, but it was impossible to tell. The creature really _did _look genderless.

"Cassius."

"Oh, for the love of Merlin," Harry groaned.

"Well, why don't you suggest something?"

"Fine." Another pause. "Spike."

"It took you that long to think of 'Spike'?"

"Oh, stuff it, Malfoy."

To tell you the truth, Harry was enjoying the friendly banter back and forth. It lacked any real malice or spite. It was almost as though they were friends. Almost, since Malfoy made sure to say at least five feet away from Harry at all times, and ten feet away from the half-breed, especially after it had slobbered all over him. Often times, they would fall quiet and walk in companionable silence. It was strange, but with only each other for company, there was not much either could do.

"Ozzy."

"After that famous muggle?"

"No, I was just thinking Ozzy."

"Oh. He was a drug addict, you know."

"Fine, not Ozzy."

The large half-breed came bounding up to Malfoy, and he couldn't move away fast enough before the beast had stood up on it's hind legs and licked Malfoy's cheek, nearly knocking him over by setting his giant paws on Malfoy's shoulders. Malfoy batted the half-breed giant away, hiding behind Harry.

"How about Demon?"


	4. Departing Sun

The sun had just disappeared and twilight fell over the island, but night was hardly very different from day in the jungle. It was only slightly darker under the cover of the jungle trees, and not a bit cooler. But soon enough, the two boys found themselves exiting the jungle into a clearing, the bubbling the stream only a few meters away. Malfoy's shoulders sagged in relief, quite tired from walking such a long distance in a day. He'd even suggested to Harry that they should see if the dragon half-breed, which Harry had decided to call Anubis and Malfoy decided to call 'the Demon', wasn't rideable.

Malfoy all but threw himself into the large stream, which Harry found amusing. He had to admit that finally arriving at the water source had lightened their moods greatly. Harry watched with great interest as Malfoy grabbed a rock and turned it into a large cup. He then proceeded to fill the cup and cast a purifying spell. Harry raised an eyebrow, and Malfoy muttered something about filthy germs. With a snicker, Harry began setting up camp for the night.

Grabbing two sticks and a few large leaves, Harry transfigured them into a large tent. As he slipped inside and turned two rocks into cots, he was quietly grateful for the Advanced Transfiguration lessons he'd taken before the war on Hogwarts. There was suddenly a yell from outside the tent, and a great splash. Harry darted back out into the humid night air, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw that Anubis had only dragged Malfoy into the stream. The giant half-breed was splashing in the water, looking nearly as happy as they had been to find the water.

Harry couldn't help but wonder where exactly the dragon half-breed had come from. It was not exactly common for a dog – not to mention, a dog with such a temperament as Anubis had – to mate with a dragon for no explainable reason. In fact, normally half-breeds were created through scientific means by wizards with the intention of inventing new breeds of animals. Half-breeds, however, were notoriously sterile, so Harry thought it was a waste of time and energy. Anubis was unusually friendly, so Harry couldn't understand why anyone would simply leave him on an island in the middle of nowhere.

There were certainly strange things going on on the island. Such as the unusual silence in the jungle, as though every animal that had perhaps once lived there had been taken away from it. In fact, Anubis was truly the only creature they'd seen since their arrival.

"Get this bloody beast off of me!" Malfoy shouted, pushing vainly on Anubis in an attempt to get him off. Harry strode casually over, thinking that Malfoy probably deserved what he got, before whistling and snapping his fingers. Anubis barked, gave Malfoy's face a great lick, before bounding over towards Harry. The sopping wet Slytherin pulled himself out of the water, his wet clothes dragging him downward.

With various profanities, Malfoy pulled off his robes and shirt. At first Harry thought Malfoy was too pale – especially since a red tan had begun to form on his face and the back of his neck, as compared to the rest of his body, which practically reflected the moonlight. Then, a stab of guilt hit him when he saw a thin scar snaking up Malfoy's chest and ending just above his collarbone. Averting his eyes, he tried to occupy himself with building a fire, which was incredibly easy for the trained wizard and took barely any time at all. Malfoy took the opportunity to cast a hovering charm on a stick and placed his clothes to dry on it.

"Do you know the counter-curse to the spell you tried to cast back at Hogwarts?" Malfoy asked him as they both sat near the fire. It was entirely too hot out for a fire, but it would dry Malfoy's clothes and keep away any unwanted animals (although Harry was sure Anubis would do that just fine.) Harry looked up at Malfoy, and shook his head.

"No. I don't think there was one," he answered quietly, knowing Malfoy was probably thinking about how to get back to Hogwarts as he looked to be deep in thought. A scowl crossed his face after Harry said this, and the Gryffindor sighed, watching the small fire dance merrily. He hadn't thought about how to get back to Hogwarts since they'd started on their trek through the jungle towards the valley. Truthfully, he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to go back. Who would want to go back to war, after all?

But he missed Ron and Hermione, his best friends. Island life wouldn't be so bad if he had been able to bring them along, along with their families. He dreaded returning almost as much as he dreaded _not _returning, however. He had to defeat Voldemort and soon. He didn't want to think what was happening back in Scotland without them. What if they'd already been defeated? What if they lost hope without Harry? What if they had begun driving back the Death Eaters and Harry wasn't there to cheer them on?

Thankfully, Malfoy spoke and broke Harry out of his depressing thoughts.

"Maybe if I cast the counter-curse to _my _spell, and you cast your spell at the same time, and they collided like they did back in the forest, it would send us back to Hogwarts," Malfoy said, as he stared into the fire. "But then, we might just end up some place worse than this," he added, though he sounded very much as though he didn't believe there _could _be a place worse than this.

"You know, it really doesn't make any sense how we ended up here," Harry said, after a moment. "I've only seen that reaction with spells when I was fighting Voldemort and his wand was the brother-wand to mine. Nothing like this happened. Your wand doesn't have a phoenix feather in it from Fawkes does it?"

Malfoy wrinkled his nose.

"My wand's core is dragon heart-string from a Hungarian Horntail."

Harry shivered slightly at the mention of the Hungarian Horntail, his thoughts drifting back to his forth year at Hogwarts. His shook these thoughts away, and leaned his elbows on his knees. "Maybe they're made of wood from the same tree."

"Mine is Ash."

"Oh."

They fell back into silence, both thinking hard. Harry thought hard about what could have caused the reaction the spells had had with each other, and Malfoy thought hard about how to get out of this awful predicament. It wasn't long until Harry had begun to doze off. Malfoy woke him just before he fell into the fire. After that, he decided that anymore thinking was best left for morning. He fell asleep before his head hit the conjured pillow of his cot.

Malfoy, however, stayed up the rest of the night, still wondering how they were going to get out of this mess. There was something else tickling the back of his mind, but he was either very good at ignoring it or he didn't want to admit it was there.

- - -

Morning came swiftly for Harry. Too swiftly, he decided. Malfoy had decided to wake him up cruelly. He'd sent Anubis into the tent, which prompted the dog-like beast to push his wet and scaly nose in Harry's face. It was a horrible way to wake up. He batted the dog nose out of his face but Anubis was persistent and eventually he was forced to get up. When he walked out of the tent, yawning all the while, his stomach grumbling noisily, Malfoy had a sneaky smirk on his face.

"What's for breakfast?" Harry asked, hoping in vain that there was _something _to eat. But Malfoy stared pointedly at him before rolling his eyes, and Harry knew there was nothing. "We're going to starve to death," he moaned, slumping onto a log. Malfoy was bottling water and packing it into a bag he had conjured or transfigured. Harry wasn't sure. Malfoy proved to be better at transfiguring things than conjuring them, and Harry attributed this to his incomplete education, which he would never bring up even if his life depended on it, because knowing Malfoy, he was sure his nose would end up as bloody as the blonde boy's had the previous day.

Anubis stared at Harry a moment and tilted his head before leaping off toward the jungle. Harry was surprised, and hadn't time to call after him before he'd gone. Malfoy mumbled something about 'good riddance', and Harry glared at him, wondering if he should chase after the beast, but found he hadn't very much energy. What with not having eaten in a day and just having woken up, he could barely lift himself off the log to call out to his newly acquired companion.

Malfoy walked over and handed him a bottle of freshly purified stream water. Harry stared at it glumly.

"We should probably leave in about an hour. I figure it's about seven or eight in the morning, and it's going to take at least five hours to get to that smoke we seen, and that's without any breaks," Malfoy said, handing Harry the bag to carry. He stared at Malfoy incredulously, but Malfoy ignored him and began pulling on his dried shirt. There was a sudden muffled bark from behind Harry, and he twisted around in his seat to see Anubis sitting with a brightly colored bird in his mouth. The bird was much larger than any bird Harry had ever seen, and he stared at it in surprise.

What surprised Harry the most was that Anubis had been able to find a live creature in a jungle that was so strangely quiet. Harry had been sure that nothing lived in the jungle, but Anubis and now the brightly plumaged bird proved him very wrong. The large dragon half-breed ambled over and dropped the bird at Harry's feet before sitting expectantly.

"Where do you think he learned to do that?" Harry asked, glancing over at Malfoy who was also staring wide-eyed at Anubis.

"Does he actually expect us to eat _that_?"

"Would you rather starve?" Harry snapped, shooting Malfoy a glare before petting Anubis on the top of his head (which was like petting a snake, rather than a dog) and scratching behind the beast's large, floppy ears. He then proceeded to pick up the bird and re-ignite the fire. Malfoy stared in disgusted fascination as he watched Harry cast a spell to strip the bird of it's feathers, a spell he'd learned while staying at the Weasley's one Christmas and watching Mrs. Weasley make turkey dinner.

Harry then began to roast the bird, turning it on a stick. Malfoy had decided not to watch any longer, because he looked vaguely sick and Harry muttered something about pampered babies. Soon enough, the bird was cooked well enough, and Harry called Malfoy over, but Malfoy called back about rather starving to death than eating something that the Demon Dog had caught. It was probably poisonous or something, he'd said.

After filling himself up, Harry stripped the meat and cast several drying spells before wrapping and packing it into the bag Malfoy had given him to carry. Not too long after, they began their hike towards the smoke that still trailed high in the sky.

* * *

**Author Notes: **Okay, that was a bit on the boring side, but after the last chapter (I love writing 'just dialogue' scenes), I figured I had to get a bit more serious. In the next chapter: Devil's Snare. I promise there'll be HD soon. Possibly a realization will come in the next chapter. Anyway, thanks for reading thus far! Review, flame, concrit, or leave me a silly little note. I thrive on comments and I always squee with glee when I get one (you should see some of the looks I get.) I probably won't write another Draco POV chapter for a bit – they always end up a bit silly with me. Also, I'm looking for a beta. I don't have one, and you can probably tell. Anyone interested, please leave me a note or email. Thanks! 


	5. Malfoy Hangs Around

Both Harry and Malfoy were quiet as they walked – or rather, hacked – their way through the dark, ominous jungle. Anubis was also strangely somber, trudging alongside Harry. If it was possible, which Harry had sure it hadn't been just a day ago, it was hotter than it had been yesterday. His skin was slick with sweat. He'd abandoned his own robes, leaving them somewhere in the jungle. He had plenty more – besides, those ones were old and were tattered by the jungle anyway to the point where they had practically hung like shreds from Harry's body. The cuffs of his sleeves were pushed up past his elbows. His shirt stuck to him, and his pants felt as though they were dragging him downward and he was very tempted to turn them into shorts.

Malfoy had also abandoned his robes somewhere along the path they had cut through the jungle. He hadn't been keen on leaving them and had tried to pawn them off on Harry to carry. Harry had taken the robes and tossed them into the underbrush. He had been strangely satisfied by this action, especially when Malfoy made a squabbling noise that sounded like a dying turkey. After that, Malfoy had taken it upon himself to ignore Harry, which Harry didn't mind a single bit.

They had been walking for what felt like hours before they walked into a clearing. Harry was thankful, because he wasn't sure if they had been heading in the right direction for the past half hour since they couldn't see the sky through the thick canopy of jungle trees. The sun seemed to be directly overtop of them, and Harry was suddenly slinking back into the shade of the trees as it baked his exposed skin. Malfoy looked as though he wanted to die and said something about his skin being ravaged.

"You look fine," Harry said exasperatedly when Malfoy came near, glancing over at the blonde boy. He did seem a bit – different looking, now that Harry's attention was drawn to it. Malfoy's skin had turned a light peach colored tan, which contrasted with his unusually blonde hair.

"I do not," Malfoy simpered, conjuring a mirror. Harry rolled his eyes. Only Draco Malfoy could care about his appearance when they were stranded in a jungle with no way of getting home. "Ugh! I look like an onion!" Harry sighed, and pressed a palm over his eyes. "This is going to take _ages _to get rid of."

Tired and worn from the long hike, Harry stomped over to where Malfoy stood, grabbed the mirror out of the other boy's hand and tossed it into the jungle. He then grabbed Malfoy by the shoulders and shook him, as though that would stop him from whining. "_You look fine!_" Harry said loudly, causing Anubis, who had been bounding through the tall green grass of the clearing, to bark. Suddenly, a grin broke out across Harry's face. "You have freckles."

Malfoy looked affronted, as though he had been greatly insulted. He looked about to dart off into the jungle to search for his conjured mirror, but since Harry still held his shoulder's tightly, he was unable to do so.

"Freckles?" he said, his voice cracking as though he'd just been told his favorite relative had died.

"Dye your hair red, and you could be an honorary Weasley."

Malfoy gasped.

"Take that back!" he said, looking greatly insulted. "Weasley!" he added with an indignant 'harrumph', but looked very concerned about the idea of freckles – which happened to be smattered across his cheeks. They were very light, and could hardly be seen unless one is up close, such as Harry was. A slight blush swept across Harry's cheek as he realized _just _how close he was, and he let Malfoy go.

"We should keep going," he said, looking upward and away from Malfoy. His eyes scanned the sky for smoke. It took him a moment, but he spotted the faint trail of white smoke slithering up towards the clouds. Malfoy was unusually quiet, but Harry quickly attributed this to his freckles comment. And indeed, when he glanced over at the once pale boy, he was rubbing at his cheeks as though that would get rid of them and Harry chuckled under his breath before leading the way back into the jungle and towards the wisp of smoke.

The jungle became more dense and dark as they walked on, and Anubis stayed a few feet in front of Harry, his ears pinned back as his wings were (and had been for the past few days. In fact, Harry was beginning to wonder if they were even functional). His tail was lowered, not completely between his legs but close to. Harry didn't know much about dogs, but he did know enough to know that if Anubis was being cautious, then they should, too. It didn't help that Malfoy liked to tromp through the jungle loudly, snapping this twig and that. Probably to stave off the eerie silence, and Harry couldn't really blame him.

It took five minutes for Harry to realize that Malfoy wasn't walking behind him anymore. Anubis was walking as silently as could be ahead of him, growling at the slightest of shadows. Harry's footsteps were heavy, but not careless and therefore were a good deal quieter than Malfoy's. Except now Malfoy wasn't making a single sound. In fact –

Harry turned around, almost expecting to see the blonde just a few feet away, smirking wildly. His stomach plummeted when he couldn't see anything – just darkness and the beaten path he and Anubis had created. Since he had stopped moving, Anubis had halted, too, and the jungle grew quiet. Before long, however, Harry heard the faint sounds of something moving and branches cracking. His shoulder's sagged in relief.

The sound didn't grow closer. Malfoy didn't appear, as Harry expected he would. And quite abruptly, the cracking sounds stopped and the only thing Harry could hear was the slight panting of Anubis and his own heart beating wildly in his chest. He had started running before he was even aware that something horrible could have happened to his enemy. He knew he shouldn't have cared. Anubis ran ahead of him, barking and howling all the while. This was Malfoy. Even though Malfoy would rather run than kill Harry, he was still a Death Eater.

Hell, Harry _should _have left him there to rot.

He might not have noticed it if it weren't for the dragon half-breed leading the way. In fact, he had nearly run past it before realizing Anubis had stopped and had dove into the jungle away from the path. Harry turned quickly and headed after the dog, instincts kicking into overdrive. There were drag marks and – Harry's heart leapt into his throat – claw marks along one or two of the trees.

Suddenly, vines had entangled themselves around Harry's feet and caused him to fall to the ground, and he very nearly hit his head on a very large rock. At first Harry had thought of snakes, as he felt the vines creeping up his legs, before he realized exactly what it was.

Devil's Snare.

Anubis turned and attacked the wriggling vines, chewing them off of Harry's legs, before scampering off again. Soon enough, Malfoy came into his line of view, hovering a few feet off the ground, vines wrapped around his body like a cocoon. Not entirely, since his upper body was still moving, pulling at the thick vines that wrapped around his arms. Harry soon realized, with horror, that Malfoy was dangling from the neck, not his arms or his torso as Harry had originally thought, and even in the dim light he could see the other boy's face turning a light shade of violet.

The best way to get rid of Devil's Snare, everyone knows, is to set it on fire. Of course, this is not a very good option when one's comrade is dangling in the air from it. The fire would kill the living vines, but it could also burn said comrade alive, and that just wouldn't do. Anubis was barking and gnawing on the nearest vines, just a few feet away from Malfoy, as though this would help.

"Come here," Harry said quickly, snapping his fingers to catch the half-breed's attention. Anubis, a broke vine still hanging from his mouth, loped over. Harry placed the animal just beneath Malfoy. Anubis was just barely tall enough to support Malfoy on his massive head, but Anubis seemed to know exactly what Harry wanted, and he sat back on his hind legs, still chomping on a vine, but now supporting Malfoy so the boy didn't strangle to death. If there was one thing to be said about the half-breed, it was that he might have inherited the loyal personality of a dog, but he had the brilliance of a dragon.

Unfortunately, by this time Malfoy had fallen unconscious, and Harry was beginning to feel the start of panic rising in his throat. He hacked away at the Devil's Snare, using dead bits to climb towards Malfoy.

"Malfoy," he said quickly, bile rising slightly in his throat when Malfoy's only response was swaying slightly. Grabbing the vine that was being used as a noose, Harry quickly severed it and nearly grabbed it to keep Malfoy from falling before realizing that if he did, he'd probably break Malfoy's neck. Instead, Anubis leapt upwards, his wings unfolding and flapping slightly, and Malfoy landed in a heap on the half-breed's back.

Harry dropped to the ground and quickly began cutting the vines that were wrapped unnervingly tight around the unconscious boy. Anubis was keeping the deadly vines away by snapping and chewing them apart with his vicious teeth. Once the vines had been tossed away, Harry cringed at the state of Malfoy. He soon realized that the claw marks he'd seen on the trees were no animals, but Malfoy's. His fingers were bloody and three nails off his fingers had been torn away.

After being in a war with Death Eaters, Harry was slightly used to seeing unconscious and the dead being very clean. The Death Eaters wasted no spells on people they didn't know or care about, and with one quick Avada Kedavra, they were dead. Or a stupefy sent them unconscious. So seeing Malfoy bruised and bloodied and looking very much as though he'd been in a war sent his stomach into tight knots.

"Draco," he said again, gripping his wand tightly and shaking the boy. When that didn't work, he pointed his wand at Malfoy's head. "_Ennervate_." When that didn't work, Harry checked Malfoy's pulse. It was faint, but there, and Harry breathed a very slight sigh of relief. Then, Harry realized Malfoy wasn't breathing, which was why he hadn't woken up with the spell. A lump formed in Harry's throat as he wracked his brain, trying to think of what to do.

CPR. It was muggle, not magical, but practical. He'd taken courses during the summer; when Aunt Petunia insisted Dudley go. Dudley had, naturally, skipped out on the courses and Harry was simply a tool used to explain what Dudley had "learned" without anyone ever being the wiser. Harry had actually found the course very useful, especially with an oncoming war. Thinking quickly, Harry sorted through all the life-saving techniques he'd learned and tried to remember how to correctly perform CPR.

If Harry had been in his right mind, he might have had qualms about doing mouth to mouth. But currently, he was only worried for Malfoy's life, and it didn't feel significantly strange. Covering Malfoy's nose, he blew into the other boy's mouth, watching for his chest to rise before moving and placing his hands on Malfoy's chest. He pressed down hard – too hard, since he heard something crack and had to keep himself from leaping back. This was normal, he told himself. It happens. He applied pressure again, this time gentler.

Repeating this several times, Harry's hands began to shake when the thought of Malfoy dying there came to him. His foremost thought should have been that he would have to figure out how to get back to Hogwarts on his own, and with his limited knowledge of what had happened back in the forest, he couldn't very well do it by himself. But it wasn't, and that was the least of his worries. He worried more about the fact that he didn't _want _to be alone, and he didn't _want _Malfoy to die. He was only eighteen, for Merlin's sake! And it would be unfair to Malfoy that he died in a place like _this. _

Harry had given up hope. He was pressing on Malfoy's chest in vain, and with one last thrust, he went to sit back on his heels. His cheeks were wet and he couldn't understand why. Almost unnoticeably, there was a small intake of air, and Malfoy quivered slightly. Harry had a hard time refraining from hugging the other boy. He could just imagine what the Slytherin would say, "Most undignified!" or "Gee, Potter, I didn't think you cared."

But he really, really did.

This was beginning to sink in and it startled him, but he hadn't time to think about that, because Draco started coughing loudly, and Harry quickly pushed Draco so that he was lying on his side, as was procedure. They both stayed like that for some time before Draco rolled back onto his back, his eyes wide and shiny, his breathing erratic and clearly painful. Eventually, he spoke in a hoarse raspy voice.

"I had a strange dream," he said, placing a hand against his chest as though it would help him breathe, before he pointed at Harry and the two spaces beside Harry. "You were in it, and you were in it, and you were in it."

"Malfoy, there's only one of me here," Harry said calmly, though he had to struggle to keep his voice from squeaking in relief.

"I know," Draco said, a slight smirk coming to his features before he began coughing again.

"What did you dream about?" Harry asked, sitting backwards. Anubis seemed to be taking a break from attacking the very dead Devil's Snare, and lay down beside Harry, panting. It was a strangely calm moment, despite the fact that Draco had very nearly died.

"You called me Draco," Draco said, staring up into the canopy of trees, looking very dazed. "Then you kissed me."

Harry choked, sitting up straight. Anubis tilted his head slightly. Harry's mouth went dry, and he suddenly became very, _very _confused. Especially since Draco seemed to appear blissfully content, which scared him more than anything. And then suddenly –

"Ugh, Potter, you _kissed _me!"

Draco was struggling to sit up and began vehemently wiping his mouth with the back of his hand. Harry suddenly realized what Draco meant, and although he probably should have been relieved, he felt a strange feeling settle into the pit of his stomach. Disappointment.

"I didn't kiss you," Harry denied, watching as Draco tried repeatedly to sit up, but couldn't, and instead pawed at his chest. "Stop moving, you're going to hurt yourself. I was performing CPR. I _saved your life._"

"CP-whatsit?" Draco said, sticking his tongue out as though he'd just swallowed something disgusting and was trying to get the taste out of his mouth. "In any case, it was disgusting! Saving my life? Ha! With a kiss? What am I, Sleeping Beauty?"

Harry groaned and put his head in his hands. Only Malfoy.

Realizing that they had spent quite a good portion of the hour in this dismal spot, Harry decided it was probably best to leave, just in case the Devil's Snare wasn't completely dead and decided to come back for revenge. Glancing down at Draco, Harry was sure that he wouldn't be able to walk on his own, especially with the rib that Harry had probably cracked. Pointing his wand at Draco, he quietly murmured a weightless spell.

"What are you doing?" Draco demanded, ever so arrogant and bossy, even when he lay half dead on the jungle floor. Harry ignored him, and preceded to pick the boy up, who was now very light because of the spell Harry had cast. "Put me down this instant!" Draco shouted. "I'm not some damsel in distress, you know! You can't just pick me up and carry me around whenever you like! This is _so _undignified."

"Fine," Harry said with a shrug, and set Draco on his feet and letting go. Draco wobbled, and painfully clutched at his side, before whimpering.

"I can hardly stand."

"I know."

"So why'd you put me down?"

"Oh, for the love of Merlin."

"Why would anyone want the love of that old codger?"

This was going to be a very, _very _long day.


	6. Proper Motivation

**Author Notes: **I think I should just mention that the previous scene was very hard to write, because I don't actually know CPR. I did a bit of reading up on it, though, but I don't consider myself an expert. I do know that broken ribs happen more often then not, and a cracked rib will not impede movement. So if it seems very wrong, I apologize. Feel free to flame me. ; D Also, thank you OfBloodAndTears, green-eyed blonde, and emeraud.silver for the reviews! I appreciate every single one of them. And naturally xOhxSnapx. You are my muse even when my brain has died!

After nearly dying, Draco decided that it would be a good idea to be nicer to the Boy Who Lived To Be A Pain In The Arse And Eventually Save Him From Homicidal Foliage. With the way this wretched jungle was turning it out, what with dragon half-breeds (he'd hate to think what would happen if they ran into one crossed with, say, a bear) and deadly Devil's Snare, he had a very bad feeling that they'd be running into more heaps of trouble and he'd need Potter's help. Even if it meant using him as a human shield.

Mostly he decided to be nice because Potter was carrying him through the jungle. At first he'd been horrified with the idea. Then embarrassed because he couldn't walk on his own. Now, as Harry stumbled and plodded on in the heat, Draco was quite grateful that he didn't have to walk himself. He also thought that Potter only took this sort of torture because Draco had almost died. And because he'd broken one of Draco's ribs. It wouldn't kill him, of course, but it was extremely painful. It was probably just a mild facture, anyway. Still, Draco couldn't help but enjoy the treatment, even if it did make him feel slightly like an invalid.

Besides, whenever a scary shadow appeared, Draco felt much better with Potter. Not that he'd ever admit it. He wouldn't admit that he'd started slightly at a mere bush, either. But who could blame him, really? He'd nearly been strangled to death by vines! Or when the Demon Dog jumped out of the underbrush at Harry in play, and Draco had to clench his teeth to keep from gasping. But this was the Demon Dog. The thing was damn scary just by looking at him. Draco did not get along well with any sort of animal; much less one that looked like it could take his head off in one bite.

Eventually, Draco began to doze off. It was hot and muggy, and Potter's pace had finally steadied and was rhythmic. He hadn't eaten or slept in two days. He'd denied the dried bird strips Potter had tried to force him to eat after the incident. He claimed his throat was too sore to eat anything. He had a hard time drinking water. This was somewhat true. Mostly Draco just didn't want to eat some strange bird cooked over a fire. Disgusting.

So, he began to nod off, despite various attempts at trying to keep himself awake. He was quite unaware that, when he'd fallen asleep, he ended up snuggling obscenely up to Potter, resting his forehead in the crook of the Gryffindor's neck. He was also completely unaware of Potter's look of unease as he did so. He also missed Potter's look softening.

He grumbled in annoyance when Potter shook him awake. They were finally leaving the jungle, and the once distant trail of smoke was now very close and it was very obvious that it belonged to a settlement of some type. Huts with roofs of some sort of hard grass and immensely large leaves came into view eventually.

"Do you think you can walk now?" Potter asked, and Draco inwardly groaned. He didn't want to walk. He was sleepy and it was far too much effort. He yawned, noting that the sun was dipping past the horizon of hills. "I can transfigure you a crutch."

"Yes," Draco grumped. "And I can do it myself," he added for emphasis. He stood lightly on his feet, standing straight and trying his very best to ignore the sharp, stabbing pain in his side. He went to bend for a stick or something to transfigure himself a crutch, before nearly toppling over. This was not good. Potter reached out and grabbed his arm to steady him, and Draco scowled. He then reached down and handed Draco a stick. Stupid Potter. He could practically feel the smugness radiating off the other boy. He promptly transfigured the stick into a crutch, and found it helped slightly.

Potter waited until Draco started walking, limping heavily, before he followed. Draco noted that he stayed behind Draco, as though keeping an eye out for anything that might sneak up and try to kill him, which caused him to sniff indignantly. Devil's Snare was very tricky stuff. Just because he had nearly died _one _time, didn't mean he didn't know how to take care of himself. For this reason, he decided not to speak to Potter and give him the cold shoulder.

It was effective, since Potter seemed slightly put off as they walked towards the small settlement. The Demon Dog seemed strangely apprehensive about the place, and despite Draco's dislike of him, he, too, felt a certain feeling of impending doom, not unlike the feeling he'd had just before he'd been grabbed from behind by a wild, carnivorous plant. This caused him to hesitate slightly, and Potter nearly bumped into him. He shot the Gryffindor a scowl, before limping onward.

"Well," Draco said, stopping just on the outskirts of the little village. "This looks _very _promising."

"They'll probably be able to help," Potter tried to point out, but Draco brushed him off.

"Help in what, exactly?" Draco frowned, looking over at Potter. "I bet they're cannibals."

"They're not cannibals!"

"How do you know? We don't, do we? Maybe they have pet Snares and they unleash them into the jungle to catch their unsuspecting prey," Draco continued. "They probably –"

Draco was suddenly cut off by a loud yell. Someone in the village had spotted them. A man in brightly colored clothes that made Draco cringe. He already knew he wouldn't like this. They had absolutely no sense of style, this was for sure. Potter began to drag him toward the village, which was a very hard thing to do because he obviously didn't want to hurt Draco and it was hard to be dragged and walk with a crutch at the same time. Draco took his crutch and hit Potter in the back of the knees in an effort to get the boy to let go of him.

It was not unusual for Draco to feel badly about something. Very rarely did he ever feel good about anything. He was not sorry for this, but he had learned to trust his instincts. As he and Potter approached the village, many male villagers gathered at the edge (or at least, Draco thought they were male. Their hair was very long and they were all very large and well-fed, and for all he knew they could have been very beastly women.) They were all holding very threatening looking spears, and Draco stayed a good foot or so behind Harry as they walked.

They were only a few meters away when the villagers aimed their spears at the two boys and their companion dragon hybrid. Draco took the opportunity to break the silence by whispering over to Potter.

"Cannibals."

"Shut up," Potter hissed back and Draco folded his arms across his chest as best he could while leaning on the crutch. The largest man out of the bunch waddled forward with a very grim look on his face. He then spoke, and left both Draco and Potter staring wide-eyed.

"Goo hata denala dago uma."

Draco snorted. The foreign words were spoken in a deep guttural way that sounded absolutely ridiculous. Potter kicked his crutch, nearly knocking it out from beneath him. Since Potter didn't seem to have a clue about how to correct the situation in which they couldn't understand a thing the villagers said, Draco sighed exasperatedly and lifted his wand, pointing it at his ear. "_Agnosco Dico." _

Almost immediately Draco began to understand what the village leader was saying, and almost immediately did he understand why he had had such a bad feeling about this in the first place.

"You stole Grand Latrator," At this the ugly fat man pointed at Anubis.

"Wait – we didn't –"

"You must pay for this crime by way of water."

"What are they saying?" Potter asked, and Draco glanced over at him.

"They think we stole your stupid demon dog and now we're going to 'pay for our crime by way of water'. What the hell is that supposed to _mean _anyway?" Draco snapped irritably.

"Then you will be consumed and your crime will be atoned for."

"Consumed?"

"Eaten by our people."

"I _knew_ they were cannibals."

"Time to leave then?" Potter asked from at his side.

"You betcha."


	7. Run Away! Run Away!

"How did we get into this mess?" Potter asked from somewhere to the right of Draco.

"Entirely your fault. I told you they were going to eat us. But did you listen? Of course not," Draco snapped back, squirming slightly. His chin itched and he couldn't scratch it. His arms were tied behind his back and around a pole. He was also blindfolded, which didn't help. "A stupefying spell would've helped, you know."

"I already told you a thousand times, I cast at least ten spells and they all bounced off them like they were made of rubber or mirrors or something," Potter responded in a snippy tone. Clearly getting captured didn't bring out the best in the great Boy Who Lived. It didn't bring out the best in Draco either, as he tried to untie himself to no avail. "What happened to you, anyway?"

"I was fighting, thank you very much."

"I meant what happened to your wand? You broke that perfectly conjured crutch over that guy's head."

"Knocked him out, didn't it? Better than your stupid spells did."

"Yeah, but you just pissed them off even more."

"Are your feet wet?" Draco suddenly noticed that his feet had become startlingly cold and sloshy. He fidgeted and moved around the pole. His shoes squished. "Is this what they meant by water? They're going to drown us, aren't they? This is entirely your fault. First you take in that stupid mutt, and then you drag us down here. I was perfectly fine with staying by that stream, figuring out how to get out of our situation that way. Then I get strangled by Devil's Snare, kidnapped by scary natives, and now I'm going to be drowned and eaten!"

"Would you stop whining and let me think?"

"No, no I will not, because there is no _way _we're getting out of this. These are wizard scout knots and unless by some miracle someone comes along and –"

"Are you two alright down zere?" came a heavily accented French voice.

"The French! The French are coming! I've never been so happy to hear the French!"

"For the love of God, Malfoy, _shut up_."

The water that had seeped into Draco's shoes was now slowly but surely creeping up his legs. By this point it had reached just below his knees. There was a splash and droplets of water hit him before the water moved around his legs and he realized that someone was splashing towards them. The blindfold was soon being pulled off him and Draco found himself gaping into the face of a beautiful young woman. A small piece of reality and familiarity hit him and Draco might have burst into a happy jig had he not been tied to a pole, which may or may not have been a good thing.

"Merlin's _beard! _Fleur Delacour?" he said incredulously as the blonde woman slipped behind him and untied the ropes that bound him to the pole. Draco now saw that they were in a very deep pit into which a steady stream of water was being poured, no doubt redirected from some stream in a very primitive fashion. Couldn't they have just dunked their heads into a horse trough or something or was that not torturous enough?

"You found us! How did you find us?" Potter said as he was being freed from his bonds. Draco rubbed his raw wrists.

"A simple location spell using something of yours. Unfortunately I can't take you back with me – this is only an astral projection. We can't apparate to this island, we were just sent to see if you were all right."

"We are now, thank you," Potter said. Draco quickly left them behind after hearing that, scaling the wall down the rope that Fleur had come down on. He found himself looking at a very red-faced, red-haired man. A Weasley. Draco carefully avoided him and instead looked around to see where those blasted natives were. It seemed they'd dragged them far out from civilization – if you could call it that. Probably so they didn't hear them screaming. Demented cannibals.

"Are you sure you'll be all right with Malfoy?" came Fleur's voice as she climbed up the rope behind Potter. "He won't hurt you, will he?"

"Honestly, I think he's as harmless as a fly. Annoying as one, too," Potter said, and Draco ground his teeth. Oh, he'd show that stupid sod who was harmless. And annoying? Him? He inwardly guffawed. Please, he wasn't the one insisting they drag around stolen half-breeds. He folded his arms over his chest and looked very sour.

"We better leave soon. The war and all," the Weasley said, taking hold of Fleur's hand.

"Are Ron and Ginny okay? I mean, when we were transported here, they didn't –"

"They're fine. The Death Eaters were too surprised to do anything at first, so Ginny and Ron hopped on their brooms as fast they could and got out of there," the Weasley said, and Draco found himself caring less and less about what they were talking about. He pulled his wand out of his sleeve where he'd hidden it and cast a drying charm on his very wet pants. He grumbled. He simply couldn't wait until they got back to England and he could change his sodding clothes.

"You should probably get out of here. Whoever tied you up will probably be back to make sure you're as good as dead –"

"And then eat us," Draco grumbled, and the Weasley gave him a funny look, to which he blatantly ignored.

"We'll figure out a way to bring you home, even if it means renting a row boat," the Weasley said to Potter, and they shook hands.

"Be careful, Harry," Fleur said, and smiled at Draco before she closed her eyes and was simply gone, as though she'd never been there in the first place. And soon enough so was the Weasley, and Draco was privately glad. A mountain range lay a few kilometers east, from what Draco could tell. The village was still in view in the distance, and Draco couldn't help but want to get away from that as fast as humanly possible.

"Shall we go then?" Draco said grumpily. The only way to go, it seemed, was through the mountains. He did not look forward to hiking through _those. _Potter was looking forlornly towards the village and Draco couldn't understand what the matter was with him. "What's your problem?" he asked in a snippy tone. He certainly didn't want to waste time standing around and talking about what Potter's problem was.

"Nothing, never mind," Potter said quickly and Draco folded his arms over his chest lightly. "Let's go."

"Finally, something I want to do," Draco began to walk towards the mountain range. He spotted a large stick and picked it up to use as a walking stick. He didn't need a crutch any longer. The pain was still there, but he was getting used to it. Potter followed quietly behind him and when he glanced back once after they'd been walking for a few minutes, he saw a rather depressed look on Potter's face. He rolled his eyes and tried to ignore the other boy, but it was very difficult when every so often, Potter would sigh. He wanted to take his walking stick and break it over the stupid Gryffindor's head, but he knew that wouldn't do. Potter was probably his only chance off this stupid island.

When they were a safe distance away from the pit they had been left in, Draco stopped abruptly and turned around to face Potter.

"Seriously, Potter, what is your problem?" he asked in slight annoyance. They'd just been rescued from drowning, found out that someone _was _looking for them and perhaps they wouldn't have to figure a way out of this by themselves, and they were a fair distance away from the village of cannibals. This was no time to be depressed about who knew what. "I swear, you've sighed at least fifteen times since we started walking and you've got this look on your face like your dog just died." Then it dawned on him. "Oh! Oh. Oh, you can't be depressed about _that_."

"It's just that, he must have run away for some reason. They were cannibals, you said so yourself – what if they're mean to him?" Potter simpered, and Draco put his hand against his forehead.

"He's half dragon, Potter, I think he'll live. Probably longer than us, in any case," Draco said before sitting down on a rock. It was getting dark, whether because they had moved so far into the mountains that the trees and mountains were blocking the sun from view, or the sun had actually gone down. Draco couldn't tell, though his body was telling him it was the latter. His legs were tired and he was quite intent on sleeping, since he hadn't done so since they'd gotten to the island. He hadn't eaten, either, and since the villagers had confiscated their bag of dried meat (Draco really wasn't keen on eating it, but anything sounded good right about then), they had nothing _to _eat.

Suddenly Draco was missing the stupid half-breed, too. At least it could catch food in this otherwise seemingly lifeless island. Potter sighed again.

"Let's just set up camp," he said, in that stupid forlorn voice that made Draco want to throw rocks at him.

"Fine, but I swear, you sigh one more time and I'm going to curse you all the way back to that sodding village," Draco said, before working as best as he could to help conjure the cots and tent. This was probably the most work he'd done in his life that actually involved physical labor – which was saying something, because they were conjuring a tent, something that didn't exactly require physical labor.

Once everything was said and done, Draco laid down on his respective cot and passed out almost as soon as his head hit his fake pillow.


	8. Thinking Clearly

**Author Notes: **Thanks for the reviews! I hope you enjoy this chapter, there's finally some action. ;D Poor Draco. He really does get the short end of the stick. Also, special thanks to xOhxSnapx, as usual, and NinjaoftheDarkness. I actually had something different planned, but your review inspired me. :D Onward, troops!

- - -

It was early. Too early. He didn't want to be awake, but Potter's snores kept him awake. Okay, that was a lie, Potter didn't really snore, but he kept tossing and turning and Draco was positive he heard something outside their tent and he simply couldn't sleep any longer. He slipped out of his cot quietly so as not to disturb the already disturbed Boy Who Lived and yawned as he stretched. He made his way over to the small fire they had built the previous night and poked the embers. Glancing back at the tent, Draco huffed. He couldn't understand how Potter could feel so attached to that mutt. It was huge and demonic and sure, it had saved his life and caught them food, but…

Draco walked around the makeshift camp. His side was feeling much better, although it still pained him now and again. Stupid Potter. Only he could forget that he had a wand and had to use muggle methods to revive him. He bit his lip. Potter had saved his life, and so had the dog, in a way. But after being nearly drowned by cannibals, he figured he didn't owe that half-breed anything. It was decided then.

He was going to commit suicide.

Indirectly, anyway. But he had an idea. Maybe they couldn't apparate off the island, but certainly they could apparate around the island? And he'd already been to the village, he knew exactly where he was going. And where he really didn't want to go. He glanced over again at the tent and sneered, before stalking off into the bushes. Draco wasn't exactly a pro at apparating and the pop made by his disappearance would surely wake Potter. He hoped he could be there and back again before Potter even noticed he was gone. That way he could claim the half-breed followed them or some such and Potter would stop whining about it.

So he didn't really whine, but Draco didn't like him being all distraught like nonetheless.

Once he was a fair distance into the trees, Draco closed his eyes and concentrated on his destination. He hoped that this worked. He'd hate to have to walk all the way back. In fact, if this didn't work, he decided he wouldn't bother at all. That was far too much work for _Potter. _He breathed in deeply and was gone. Dark swirled around him as was normal before he popped back into existence. A smirk came to his face when he saw that he was just outside the cannibal's village.

He refused to refer to them as anything more than cannibals. Monsters, is what they were. He cast a silencing charm on himself so as not to make any sound as he crept through the village looking for Anubis and prayed it stuck. The island seemed to have it's own magical laws and he wasn't sure how long certain spells would last. This was going to be difficult.

Draco snuck into the village, placing himself behind a hut. It seemed the village was still asleep, as it was barely light out. This was good. Creeping around the hut, he glanced around the village, but couldn't see Anubis anywhere. That was until a flame licked out from behind a hut, followed by a trail of smoke. Then another, and another, and it seemed very unusual for just a normal fire. Especially since the fire tended to go horizontally instead of vertically. Draco wasn't very careful when it came to walking. He made practically no noise, so he could go as he pleased without waking the general populace.

The same could not be said for Anubis.

As soon as the dog came into view, it spotted Draco and began reacting wildly. Draco noticed it was chained in the center of the village to a pole. Draco was surprised the chains even held the beast as he snarled and pulled at them. Then the demon began to bark happily and loudly and Draco groaned.

"Shush! Be quiet, you stupid mongrel. I've come to spring you," he whispered, as though the dog could understand him, which he was very sure it couldn't, because it kept on loping about and barking loudly. Suddenly he heard voices somewhere in the distance and he stiffened. Perhaps it would be best to hide. Or apparate without the dragon and forget the entire thing. Draco really didn't want to die. Most of all, he didn't want to be _eaten. _

Draco moved to hide behind the nearest object, which happened to be a hut, but the dog began to whine loudly, whimpering with each step Draco took.

"Oh, bullocks." Draco rushed back towards the great beast, knowing full well he was in a heap of trouble. He pulled at the chains but they wouldn't budge. He cast severing charms, heating charms, cutting charms, smashing charms – everything he could think of, but nothing would work on the chains. It was then that there was a shout and it sounded as though it were only a few feet away from him.

Draco wasn't going to be able to remove the chain, but he might be able to do something about what Anubis was chained _to. _The large wooden pole seemed old and well worn, as though it had had many dragons tied to hit before Anubis. Draco closed one eye and cast a cutting charm on the log. It worked. Well, it worked better than it had on the chains, anyway. He cast it several more times, before beginning to push hard on the log.

That was when all hell broke loose.

The villagers began to attack. Anubis did a fairly decent job of taking most of the blows and with his tough dragon hide he was unaffected. But then there were arrows and they hit the log just above Draco's hands and he yelped, surprised and jumped away, hiding behind the dragon, as it was his only cover.

"You're going to have to help me here," Draco said loudly, again as though Anubis could understand him as he indicated towards the pole. He began to push on it again and it began to budge, as Anubis leapt against it and pulled his chain. Of course, this didn't stop the ongoing fire and an arrow went straight through Draco's hand.

He howled, perhaps, louder than the dragon dog himself.

"Merlin's balls, shit, shit, shit, _fuck_," He swore loudly, staring at his hand, which was pinned to the pole and he danced about in pain. His eyes began to water and he grabbed the shaft of the arrow, closing his eyes tightly and pulling hard. It came out with a sickly squishy sound and Draco felt like vomiting at the blood and the pain. This was _not on._

The pole finally cracked and broke off, and Draco pulled the chain off, now beginning to wonder how they were going to get away and out of all this. There was certainly no way he could apparate the both of them while trying to ignore the pain in his sodding _hand. _Another arrow came whizzing past his head, nearly taking off his ear, and another hit his right shoulder.

"Ow! Mother of – Would you people _stop that?_" Draco shouted, before he felt himself being lifted off the ground. It took him a moment to realize that the stupid dog was saving his hide _again. _He supposed it wasn't a bad thing. He looked upwards and saw that Anubis had grabbed Draco's robes in his front talons, and Draco had to be very careful not to be hit with drool. He was amazed at the wingspan on the beast. He'd only ever seen Anubis lope around with his wings tucked against his back, never fully expanded and he was surprised at the size of them. They had seemed relatively small before, and now they were bloody _huge. _

But this was definitely a win for them and another loss for the cannibals. Reaching his left arm around, Draco grabbed hold of the chain and pulled himself up onto the dragon half-breed's back. They had soared out of view of the village in no time at all, and Draco was allowed a moment of relaxation – although it was very difficult. Riding a dragon and riding a broom are certainly two different things. Draco had control over the broomstick at all times. Riding a dragon was bumpy and he had no idea what Anubis was going to do next.

After a while, though, he slumped forward and rested his eyes, eventually falling into a light sleep, despite the throbbing pain in his shoulder (where the arrow still protruded) and his very bloody hand, which he'd wrapped in his robes to keep himself from bleeding to death. Why couldn't it be Potter for once that got hit with arrows or strangled by Devil's Snare? Why were these rotten things always happening to _him_?

He could just hear Potter's response to that.

'Karma.'

"Sod off, Potter," he grumbled, opening his eyes. He realized they were descending very quickly and that he should better hold on before he flew off the back of Anubis. Draco decided that for a dog thing, Anubis was fairly intelligent, as they were descending upon the spot that they had set up camp. There was a fire going. Great. Potter was awake.

He was really going to get it, now. Why did he ever bother doing anything good?

Anubis also needed work on his landings, Draco decided. He all but crashed into the ground, skidding to a stop. When he finally did come to a complete halt, Draco ended up tumbling off over the dragon's head. Had Draco been aware of muggle television, he might have described this moment as very cartoony and not at all funny.

"Draco!" Potter's voice was muffled and Draco was sure this was because his ears were now filled with dirt. Then, after gathering his senses, he realized it was because Potter had all but threw himself on Draco. It was very painful, since he was pressing on the arrow in Draco's shoulder, causing Draco's eyes to water again. And just when the pain had begun to dull. "What the hell were you thinking? And what the hell did you do to yourself?"

"What are you, my mother?" Draco snapped irritably. "You were mopey. You're really annoying when you're mopey, so I went back and got your stupid mutt. And this is the thanks I get. Two battle wounds and a lecture."

Potter stared at Draco, then looked over at Anubis, who was wagging his tail happily, his tongue lolling out of his mouth, buckets of drool dripping onto the ground. He padded over and gave Potter a great lick, and Draco was disgusted and felt compelled to give a loud 'Ew'. Then a grin broke out on Potter's face, and Draco was slightly less sour. But only slightly.

"Thank you," Potter said, still grinning. "That was incredibly… sweet of you."

"Never do that again."

"What?"

"Describe me as sweet," Draco stuck out his tongue and shuddered. Him? Sweet? No, he was doing what he had to do to shut Potter up about his stupid mutt pal. "And if you want to thank me, get this stupid thing out of my shoulder."

"Oh. Oh!" Potter looked at the arrow and seemed a bit puzzled.

"What? Get it out. I can't do it," he said, holding up his hand, which had gone very numb and he could no longer move his fingers, which, strangely, he wasn't worried about. He found himself worrying more over whether Potter was grateful or not, and then he found himself being angry for worrying whether Potter was grateful or not. It was Potter for Merlin's sake. He meant nothing to Draco. He didn't even care for his opinion.

"That is really disgusting," Potter said, pointedly looking at Draco's hand.

"Yes, I realize, and it's even worse when it's your hand, but it doesn't hurt as much as _that _does," Draco snapped irritably, poking the end of the arrow with a stiff finger and wincing.

"I'm just not sure about the best way to go about this. You know, I'm used to spells and stuff. Degenerative and, and stupefy – not…"

"Just yank it out!" Draco said exasperatedly. He could handle the pain. Really, he could.

"Are you sure? Won't that hurt?"

"It already hurts, you moron," Draco growled, getting very frustrated. Was Potter really that incompetent? "Just do it. Get it over with. It'll hurt me more than you; you should enjoy this or something. We're enemies, sworn to cause a lot of pain to each other, so just do it before it gets infected and we have to cut off my arm. Because then I'd be really pissed off."

"Fine, if only it'll get you to shut up," Potter said, and Draco braced himself and the other boy wrapped his hands around the arrow. It happened very quickly, but hurt for quite a long time afterward.

"Ow, ow, ow. Why does it hurt more coming out then it does going in?" Draco whimpered as Potter tore a piece of cloth off his robes and pressed it again the bleeding hole. There was a moment where Draco sat stiffly, his eyes shut in pain, Potter holding the cloth against Draco's shoulder awkwardly. Potter was the first to break the silence.

"I didn't enjoy that, you know," he said softly, and Draco opened his eyes.

"What?"

"I don't like it when you're in pain. I thought you would've figured that out when I offered to transfigure you a crutch before," Potter said, sitting down from his current kneeling position. "I mean, I don't like seeing anyone in pain. You have to take off your shirt. I need to clean it, otherwise it's going to get infected and personally, I don't want to have to deal with a one-armed, hacked off Draco Malfoy."

"Fine," Draco sighed exasperatedly, pushing his robes off. He fumbled around inside his shirt, before his cheeks turned a lovely shade of pink. "I can't do it."

"What? Why? It's just me, Malfoy, there's nothing to be embar-"

"It's not that, you git, I physically _can't. _I'm an invalid because of you. My hand is literally shot to hell and my arm doesn't want to move without screaming in agony, so I physically cannot do it."

"Oh," Potter blushed furiously. "Well, um… Do you mind if – if I…?"

"Yes, I do mind," Draco added irritably. Needing Potter to take off his own shirt was certainly under the category of things Draco minded. "But I don't think I have a choice."

"Right. Right," Potter said, before reaching forward and fumbling with Draco's shirt possibly as much as Draco had the first time, before finally managing to pull it up over Draco's head, exposing the wound for all it's gory goodness. Both boys cringed, and Draco even went and turned his head away from his own arm. "I don't think I can heal this. I mean, it's not my field of expertise. I could try but…"

"No, no trying. If you can't do it, then don't. I don't want to lose or gain extra limbs," Draco said sternly. He was very sure Potter would botch up the simplest of spells, and healing wasn't the easiest job in the world. He grimaced as Potter began to clean the wound, conjuring bandages and clean water. Conjured water was not the same as real water. It did nothing to quench thirst, but it did do a decent job of cleaning when one was in need.

"So," Potter began awkwardly. Draco watched with strange fascination as Potter worked diligently to get his shoulder clean and bandaged. It felt very strange. "Why did you go back and get Anubis, anyway?"

"I told you," Draco said, stiffening at the question. He wasn't entirely sure of the answer to that question himself anymore. He blamed blood loss. "You were moping about and being annoying. It didn't seem like such a hard thing to do. But then the monster went and started barking and they brought arrows and – ow – well, this happened."

"I would have gotten over it."

"Over what? "

"Over leaving Anubis behind. You know that, too. I don't think you went back because I was being annoying," Potter looked him in the eye, and Draco held the gaze as long as he could.

"Aha, so you admit to being annoying."

"Only if you admit you did it to be nice."

Draco gasped. "I did _not!" _

Potter grinned, and Draco felt compelled to punch him. Lucky for Potter he couldn't move his fingers or his right arm. Bastard.

"Done. Now let me see your hand."

Draco raised his hand with a scowl and winced as Potter clean his hand and wrapped it up. This was relatively quicker than his shoulder, possibly because Potter simply dunked his hand in the basin of water. Once finished, Draco noted that Potter held his hand longer than he needed to.

"Thank you," Draco said, surprising even himself. He rarely – if ever – said thank you. And Potter surely didn't deserve it. In fact, Draco didn't owe the other boy anything, particularly a thank you. Embarrassed that he'd said anything, Draco began to stand up, but Potter grabbed his left arm and pulled him back down. Already on unsteady feet, Draco toppled over straight onto the other boy, but it seemed this was Potter's intention, because shortly after doing so and finding himself nose to nose with the Gryffindor, Potter had his lips against Draco's.

Potter was kissing him. Potter was kissing _him. _

Draco's eyes widened and he had no idea how to react. He probably should've pushed Potter away and ran somewhere. Anywhere. But it wasn't an option. Both of Draco's arms were out of commission. He attempted to push himself away by using his knees, but that didn't work. In fact, he ended up in a more compromising position, and Draco was beginning to think that this wasn't entirely bad. There were lips and they were warm and this was certainly the _least _painful thing he had endured this entire trip.

But then Potter had the gall to shove _him _off (painfully, he might add) and Draco ended up rolling on his back.

"Oh god," Potter said before fleeing towards the tent.

Draco simply stared, completely bewildered and befuddled. He wasn't sure whether to be relieved or pissed off.

"What the _fuck?_"


	9. Parting Words

Harry's solution to his confusion over kissing Draco was simple. Never ever speak of it again and ignore Draco as much as humanly possible. It was certainly difficult when Draco was right there and that was all he could think about, even on this insane island, even with Anubis to keep him preoccupied. But somehow he managed. They'd packed their tent and Draco was equally silent and this unnerved Harry, but he kept working and didn't say anything. He couldn't. Everything he thought to say sounded stupid – it was either far too cheesy or harsh and mean and Harry didn't want to hurt Draco, he'd already told him that.

Of course, he didn't really realize he was hurting Draco already by not talking to the other boy until it was nearly a day afterwards and they were trudging through the cool forest and through the mountains. They had no idea where they were going, but they hoped the other side of the mountains held an answer to where they were and how they were to get home. Harry worried that the war was going badly, especially without him there to spur on the troops, so to speak.

"We don't know where we're going," Draco said in a biting tone as they walked along the path, Anubis running ahead of them and then running back. He'd probably run three times the distance they had walked already.

"No," was all Harry could bear to say and he glanced at the other boy out of the corner of his eye. What he saw halted him in his tracks. It wasn't Devil's Snare, nor a beast he couldn't recognize or even cannibals come to skewer them and make them human shish kebobs. It was confusion, loathing and something else. Hurt. And this was all in Draco's eyes and his face, the way he held himself. He no longer carried himself like an aristocrat. It was strange and it was scary. Harry liked it better when Draco was uncaring and stuck up and amused with everything Harry did, even when he mocked it.

"Malfoy," he said slowly, and Draco stopped and turned around equally slowly as though he didn't care. But the fact he turned around showed that he did, and he couldn't deny the look Harry had seen earlier. "We should talk."

"Oh, whatever about?" Draco sneered, attempting to make a gesture with his right arm, except that it was currently being held in a sling and he winced at no doubt the pain it caused him.

"If you don't want to –" Harry began, but Draco swiftly cut him off.

"I don't want to," Draco said irritably. "The last thing I want to do is talk. I want to get off this blasted island, I want to go back to the war where you and I are sworn enemies and I never have to see your ugly face again."

"You don't mean that," Harry said, taken aback by Draco's words.

"I really, _really _do," the blonde boy snarled, before stomping onward. Anubis had halted and had his ears pinned back and his tail between his legs. He whimpered as Draco stomped past him, almost sounding as though it had been him he'd snapped at. Harry sighed and continued to walk on, but as soon as Draco had started walking, he stopped and swung around, fury on his features.

"You know what, let's talk. I want to know how you explain what happened back there," he snarled, folding his arm over his other as best he could. He was standing a bit straighter and looking exactly how Harry remembered him in school, save for the tanned skin and slight freckles. "What's your excuse? You accosted me! I'm an invalid; you know I couldn't fight back if I wanted. What's your excuse for taking advantage of me?"

"I just – wait, _what?_" Harry was baffled. Taking advantage of him? Fight back? What was Malfoy talking about? From Harry's point of view, Draco hadn't minded it. He would've said something earlier if he had. "I didn't think –"

"That's exactly it, isn't it? You don't think at all. That's how we ended up here, in the middle of no where," Draco snapped angrily. "Forget it. God, Potter, I wish you would just _die _already."

"Malfoy, don't –" Harry started to say as Draco walked off again and he followed, but before long, Draco had disappeared into the darkness ahead of him. Harry hurried, looking this way and that. Knowing Draco's luck, some more Devils' Snare probably snatched him, but there wasn't even a trace of Draco, as though he hadn't been there at all. Harry doubled back, thinking maybe he'd somehow gotten turned around or off track, but found nothing.

Malfoy was gone. Disappeared.

Maybe he apparated some place, Harry thought, trying to think as positively as possible. His breathing began to quicken as he thought of some of the things that could have possibly happened to the other boy. The thought of being alone in the dank forest didn't bother him. He knew he could survive on his own (Merlin knew that he probably would do a lot better than Draco.) It was the worry that something horrible had happened to Draco that bothered him, and he wasn't entirely sure why.

Draco had wished him dead. Draco wanted to go back to the war so that they could go back to being enemies. Perhaps Draco really didn't care for what had happened; maybe he really did dislike Harry that much. But he couldn't get the image of Draco looking confused and hurt out of his head.

It was it this moment Harry remembered Anubis, and looked about. He was gone, too. That was certainly strange. Anubis didn't care for Draco as much as he cared for Harry, which was shown by the way he had a tendency to avoid Draco as much as possible. Maybe he had followed Draco. At least then Draco had some protection, because Anubis was not a force to be reckoned with.

Harry sat down on a rock and pulled out his wand. He stared at it for a long while before casting a locating charm on Draco. The wand began to move back and forth as a compass needle would, but quite suddenly it began spinning wildly in the palm of Harry's hand. He gripped the handle of it to get it to stop, but it shook his hand about. Eventually when it stopped, Harry had a moment to think. Was it possible it couldn't find Draco because the boy was dead? Maybe he wasn't on the island at all anymore. Maybe something _had _happened to him.

It was then that Harry spotted a spark of light in the trees. Surprised, Harry stood up and squinted into the dark. Another spark and another. It suddenly sounded as though someone were crashing through the bushes at a slow pace. Harry's heart sped up and relief spread over him. Draco wasn't gone, he'd probably just gotten lost. Harry walked towards the noise swiftly, but it abruptly stopped and started to come from behind him.

Confused, Harry turned and followed the noise again. Again and again it would change direction and it was almost as though he'd walk right past the spot the noise was coming from. This time he walked slowly and when the noise stopped so did he. He couldn't see anything around, and the darkness of the forest was beginning to press in on him and create an eerie atmosphere as night fell.

"Malfoy?" Harry called out, turning on the spot but otherwise remained unmoving. He bit the inside of his lip. "Malfoy, are you there?" he said again, and swung around as he heard another crack that seemed to come from directly behind him. "Draco?"

A figure began to emerge. It was not Draco. In fact, it was one person in the entire world Harry had never thought he'd see again.

"Oh, _God._"

- - -

**Author Notes: **Who is it that Harry has discovered? Where did Draco go? Did Anubis go with him? Did Anubis _eat _him? Okay, I would never do that, but MYSTERY ABOUNDS. And the most important question: Where _are _they? Fleur and Bill never did divulge that information, did they? Or perhaps, maybe they don't even know where Harry and Draco are? Review & Constructive Critism are most welcome. Don't worry, since this chapter is so short, the next will be coming up very soon. I hope you enjoy!


	10. Win One for the Reaper

Draco hadn't intended on going off on his own. He'd intended to stomp away and leave Potter for a moment. When he realized Potter wasn't following like he should have been, Draco stopped and waited. And waited. And waited. And Potter never came and this annoyed him more than anything. He really did hate Potter. This was getting ridiculous. First he kissed Draco, then he got all huffy about it and ignored Draco altogether and then he disappears. If there was one thing Draco did not feel for Harry, it was any sort of attachment. He didn't like Potter, he certainly never would love Potter, and he thought Potter ought to know.

But he could have at least followed Draco when he left.

Moodily, Draco sat on a rock. He didn't fret over Potter's safety, because it always him that was getting into trouble. Potter had yet to get dangled from tree's precariously or shot at or any of those things. Sure, he'd been tied to a pole, but so had Draco, so that didn't count. And in the end it was Potter's friends that had saved them from a watery doom. Plus he had that stupid demon dog that had started this whole fiasco with him, and Anubis would protect Harry to the end, he was sure. That dog was loyal like nothing Draco had ever seen. He couldn't understand it at all.

After at least a half hour of sitting on his rock and waiting for Potter to turn up, Draco began to get anxious. Not for Potter's safety, oh no, but for that fact that he might have been left alone in the jungle. Didn't Potter _know _that the jungle was hazardous to Draco's health? Draco glanced at the underbrush. He knew it was just lying in wait until he made the right move and then it would eat him. Everything wanted to eat him, even the people. He couldn't blame them, really, because he was delicious looking, but _eating _him was certainly out of the question.

Then something began to rustle. Draco started and stood up, glancing around before grabbed a stick. He wouldn't be caught off guard this time. He pulled out his wand. He had a primitive weapon that was sure to work, and his wand that might probably work more effectively. But, of course, the rustling was nothing more than an overgrown dog with scales.

"What are _you _doing here?" Draco snapped, glaring at the dog. "Shouldn't you be with Potter? He's your best pal, isn't he?" he sneered, feeling very compelled to kick something. Anubis sat and watched him as though he were the most fascinating thing in the world. "Stop that," Draco said, tossing the stick and putting his wand back up his sleeve. When Anubis didn't, Draco scowled fiercely at him as though this would get rid of him. It didn't.

"Fine," Draco said stubbornly. "If you insist on being with me, and not with him, which personally I think is the better choice anyway, go find something to eat. I feel like I haven't eaten in days," he added, sitting back down on the rock. He failed to realize that he _hadn't _eaten in days. It was amazing he was still standing, really, but this island did seem to have some weird effect on everything in it. "Go on! Shoo!"

Anubis snorted and his tongue lolled out of his mouth before he trotted away. Draco was left alone again and it was getting darker in the forest. Where _had _Potter gotten to, anyway? Draco doubted he could spend a night alone in the forest by himself. Of course, under normal circumstances he could, but this island seemed intent on killing him. He folded his arms over his chest and tapped his foot impatiently.

It was useless to wait around for Potter, so Draco stood and began walking in the direction the dog had gone. Maybe he'd found Potter. Maybe if Draco followed Anubis, he'd find the sodding Boy Who Lived. He stopped when he heard a noise. It was the typical branches breaking of an animal crashing through the bushes but there was something else. Something being dragged and occasionally there was a thump as though something had just been dragged over a log.

Draco swallowed.

Or someone.

Maybe something _had _gotten to Potter. Draco's stomach plummeted. This wasn't good. This was Potter's island, not his. He'd sent them here. Or maybe it was just Anubis. Yes, that was it. Anubis had caught something and he was dragging it back to Draco. He breathed a sigh of relief. He was getting in a tizzy over nothing. It was this stupid dank forest, is what it was. But there was still that lingering fear. What _had _happened to Potter? Where had he gone?

Suddenly the sound grew closer and eventually the scaly beast emerged. Draco smirked triumphantly. Only he could have been spot on about something like _that. _Anubis had caught something and he was simply bringing it back to Draco.

"Good boy," Draco said in a slightly more cheerful tone than he'd used before. He patted the beast awkwardly on the back before moving to see what it was that the dragon halfbreed had brought him.

He really wished he hadn't.

"Oh my god," he said quickly, horrorstruck and unable to move. "Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god…" This was all he could say for a good few minutes. Anubis whimpered and lay down, placing his head on his paws and looking up at Draco sadly. Draco was inclined to kick him.

"But – but…" he stuttered before falling to his knees. "How did – what –"

Not a single coherent thought or sentence entered Draco's mind. It was just a jumbled mess of what had happened and why had it happened to Harry and all the could-be answers. Biting his lip to keep the sting in his eyes at bay, he reached forward and picked a piece of splintered glass out of a cut on Harry's face. His glasses were gone, lost somewhere along the way. His clothes were tattered and unbearably bloody and his eyes were open wide and blank.

Harry was dead.

Draco swallowed thickly, panic rising. "This is my fault, I know it is," he said, his voice tight. "I just left him and I didn't bother to look and oh god, _I wished he was dead_ and now he is. This is my fault." His body was wracked with dry sobs, and the only sound was his harsh, unsteady breathing.

"This can't be happening, he can't leave me _alone _here," he said to himself, taking Harry's cold and bloody hand in his own. It was obvious what had killed Harry – there was a gaping hole in his chest that Draco refused to look at. His arms were bruised as though he'd struggled against something. When Draco looked into Harry's once bright green eyes, now dull and lifeless, it hit him like a ton of bricks. Tears began to trickle down his face unnoticed.

"I didn't mean it, you know," he said quietly, as though Harry could still hear him. He choked. "I – I didn't really want you to die. And – and not because Fleur and Bill will leave me here if your not there to tell them otherwise. Oh god, they really will, won't they? I'll be stuck forever and I won't even have your company. And I enjoy your company, you know, even if you can be really annoying sometimes, especially when you care about something so much that I can't understand it at all. It doesn't make sense.

"And – and, well, you were taking advantage of me, really, because I could hardly move but I really didn't mind and it was so confusing and why the fuck did you do it? Why did you get yourself killed on me?" Draco put his face in his hands, unable to look at Harry's body any longer. He pulled off his robes and covered Harry in them.

He had to get out of this forest, but he couldn't leave Harry there to be eaten by wild animals or something. Breathing deeply and trying to rid himself of his stupid tears and stupid thoughts, Draco decided he could carry Harry out. He cast a lightening charm on Harry's body and grimly lifted it into his arms. He grimaced when his hand was covered in Harry's sticky blood, and he began to walk.

Harry had carried Draco when he'd been hurt, it was his turn to carry Harry, even if Harry wasn't there anymore.

Just when Draco thought he couldn't walk any longer, something emerged from the bushes and Anubis began to growl.

"Oh. Hello, Draco. What's that you have there?"


	11. Monsters Are Such Interesting People

"Hello, Harry."

"Oh, god. You – you –" Harry stuttered, staring wide-eyed.

"Yes, Harry, it really is me."

"But you – you're dead."

"Yes, I am that, too," Cedric answered stoically.

"And you… you really stink." Okay, that probably wasn't a smart move. Insult the zombie. Harry grimaced. This was completely unreal. Cedric was dead. He had been for four years. It really showed, too. Cedric's skin – what was left of it – was hanging in bits and appeared to be a dull green. Harry swallowed thickly. Cedric was missing an eye and his skin hung off his bones. The skin around his missing eye was eaten away and Harry could see his skull.

But he could still tell it was Cedric.

"I've been dead for a while. I'm rotting. Of course I smell," Cedric said, his voice low, barely above a whisper. The forest was deadly silent and this didn't help anything. Harry shivered. This was very creepy. And very disgusting, he decided.

"So… are you an Inferi?" Harry asked, stepping cautiously away.

"Of course not. Inferi can't talk, now can they?" Cedric smiled, revealing blackened teeth and rotting gums. A piece of his lip was missing. Harry had a hard time not vomiting.

"What are you doing here? _How _are you here?" Harry asked suspiciously. Maybe he was going mad. Maybe he'd stopped along the way and eaten some weird fruit he couldn't remember and now he was having one of those weird hallucinogenic trips. Or maybe he'd fallen and hit his head. Maybe _he_ was dead. He hoped this wasn't what the other side looked like. He didn't care for Inferi or zombies.

"I'm here to torment you, why else would I be here?" Cedric said blandly, folding his decayed arms over his chest, his dress robes hanging in dirty strips. "I'm here because you killed me, Harry, and everyone has to pay a price eventually. Yours just took a while."

"I didn't kill you. Voldemort killed you."

"Actually, Wormtail killed me, but we're not being technical."

"This whole tormenting thing doesn't really work when you say things like that," Harry said, strangely becoming rather comfortable in the presence of a rotting corpse. It was nice to see someone he knew – besides Draco – even if that someone happened to be dead and probably was a figment of his imagination. Right. Draco. "Have you seen Draco anywhere? He disappeared a little while ago and he's had a bit of trouble around here and I'm afraid he's probably gotten himself killed like you. Oh – sorry."

"It's alright, I'm quite used to being dead," Cedric said pleasantly, scratching his head and bites of stringy hair fell off. Harry cringed. "And Draco Malfoy? I haven't seen him. It's probably a good thing, too. I never liked him."

"I didn't, either," Harry said quietly, furrowing his brows together as he thought. Why exactly was he worried about Draco anyway? Even if they got back to Scotland, Harry and Draco would simply be pitted against each other and Harry wondered if Draco would even hesitate to kill him like he had with Dumbledore.

"You shouldn't trust him, you know, Harry. Didn't your mother ever teach you not to trust Death Eaters?" Cedric said, suddenly becoming strangely sardonic. "Oh, I'm sorry. I forgot. It's probably the bugs eating away at my brain, you know."

"How am I supposed to trust _you_? You're a corpse. And probably a hallucination or something this island conjured up," Harry said, folding his arms over his chest. He wondered if Cedric would notice if he cast an anti-smelling charm on himself. Cedric really did smell _awful._

"Well, yes, I suppose that's true. But I'm the corpse of a Head Boy. Malfoy's a Death Eater. A Death Eater killed me, remember? He'll probably kill you."

"Maybe. I don't think he's capable right now, though. He kind of has a problem with both of his arms. He wouldn't even be able to fight back against a flobber-" Harry halted. "I need to find him. I really, _really _need to find him. He could die."

"I can't let you do that, Harry."

"Why? Because you're here to torment me?" Harry asked, raising an eyebrow. "You're doing a very poor job of being creepy and tormenty. In fact, you don't even sound like Cedric at all."

"Oh, poo," sighed Cedric. "And I thought I was doing a really good job. I even memorized your memories, too. Funny sentence that – memorized your memories."

"Who _are _you?" Harry asked, suddenly becoming angry. Whoever this was had looked into his mind and made Cedric a corpse. That just wasn't on. "Because I swear I'm this close to beating you within an inch of your undead life."

"You're too passive for that," the Cedric-wannabe said. Suddenly the illusion melted away and in Cedric's place stood a tall man dressed in black robes and a black cape. He was very thin and had a long beard, not nearly as long as Dumbledore's once was, but it was fairly long. "And I am Doctor Montague Kane."

Harry wasn't surprised. He felt he should have been, but what with dragon half-breeds, cannibals, Devil's Snare and rotting, walking, talking zombies, he seemed to have lost all ability to be surprised.

"Why did you do that?" Harry asked, slipped his hand up his sleeve and gripping his wand just in case. He didn't know whether this Doctor was friend or foe, and he certainly seemed to be leading toward the latter what with the Cedric impersonation.

"I was testing a theory. It's ongoing, and I don't have many people around here to test it on. I thought it would be easy to divide you and that Draco boy up, since you very clearly don't like each other, or at least, he doesn't like you. Physically, it was simple, but mentally, it seems you are no match for my astounding mental abilities."

"You're very crazy, aren't you?" Harry asked, staring.

"I'm told so," the Doctor sighed, before waving his hand as though he were brushing it off. "Anyway, you should come to my home with me. This forest is enchanted, you know. Makes you see things that aren't real. I mean, I do that, too, but this forest can make you see some very strange things. Usually your worst fears. Sort of like a boggart, and I don't care to run into _my _worst fear here."

"How am I supposed to trust you?" Harry had a very hard time believing a man who had tried to dupe him and failed. Not to mention, he lived in on this island and that didn't bode well. Harry couldn't imagine living in this horrible place.

"Ah, I suppose you can't. It's your choice to follow; I can't make you do anything. My failed experiment proved that, now didn't it?" the Doctor chuckled and began to walk onto a path that suddenly appeared out of seemingly nowhere. The tree's even seemed to bend away from the Doctor. "But if anything, I can get you out of this forest quick as a flash."

"It's tempting, but I still don't know where Draco is, and I really have to find him."

"Oh, silly boy, this forest can't hurt anybody. Well, I suppose if you were terribly clumsy and tripped over a log, it could, but it only _shows _you you're fears. And no one in all of history has ever been _scared _to death. He'll be fine," the Doctor said, smiling warmly and Harry had a strange feeling about this man. It wasn't anything suspicious – in fact, Harry felt that he could, indeed, trust him. The man's eyes twinkled and he was reminded of Dumbledore and he felt very compelled to follow him.

"I'm still going to look for him," Harry said, moving away from path. He hadn't a clue where he was going, and the Doctor seemed to, of course, know this.

"Not that way, m'boy, that way!" he pointed in an entirely different direction than Harry was going and a path appeared. "After you find him, feel free to stop in at my home. It's the large manor at the top of the hill just as you exist the forest on the west side. Just use your wand and you'll find your way, I'll make sure of it," the Doctor said cheerfully. "Cheerio!"

After that, the Doctor began to walk down his separate path, whistling to himself. The tree's seemed to close up behind him and soon Harry couldn't see him at all, and might have though the entire thing was just his imagination run wild, except that the man's whistles echoed throughout the forest, and even as Harry trudged down the path the Doctor had created for him, he could still hear them as loudly as though they were right beside him.


	12. Life and Death

At first, Draco didn't recognize who he was looking at. Grey eyes under a mop of unruly hair and glasses. He was older, maybe in his early twenties. And then it dawned on him. It seemed so obvious, now. Except that the man Draco was looking at was supposed to be dead. Very, very dead. Dead for a very long time, in fact.

"J-James Potter?" he asked in surprise. He had a hard time getting his mouth around the words. Draco had never thought in his life that he'd ever meet James Potter. Harry really _did _take after his father. He took a shaky breath. What would James Potter have to say about his son's death? This wasn't good at all. But it didn't make sense – what was James Potter doing there at all?

He was a ghost. That had to be it. Draco couldn't be seeing things because he'd never seen James Potter before in his life. But James seemed very solid and very real. He'd crashed through the bushes. Currently, he was picking at a leaf in his hair. Draco's face went ashen. This really couldn't be happening. It was beyond comprehending. It was beyond anything Draco had ever known. Draco knew scary and creepy. He was a Death Eater. But seeing the father of the Boy Who Lived?

"Well, I certainly don't have a scar on my head," James laughed, and it reminded Draco of Harry's laugh. He took another shaky breath and a step back. His heart was racing as though he'd run a mile. Moonlight filtered through the trees and Draco vaguely noted it was a full moon. Fantastic. Just his luck there'd be werewolves running about.

Werewolves and ghosts and cannibals and dead Harry's and Draco _really _wanted out of this place.

"The son of Lucius Malfoy," James said, putting his hands on his hips and stepped forward. "Never thought I'd see you. He was a Death Eater. I bet the apple didn't fall far from the tree, did it? You look just like him. Same blonde hair. Same eyes. I remember those eyes. They were there the night Voldemort killed me."

"I'm not him," Draco said shakily. "I'm not my father. I'm not anything like him."

"You're carrying a body," James pointed at the covered body of Harry in Draco's arms. Harry's hand had somehow made its way out of Draco's robes. "Next you're going to tell me that you didn't do it. Or maybe you were Imperius'd into doing it, right? Just like your old man. So who is it?"

"I'm _didn't _kill him, this stupid place did," Draco choked, his throat constricting. He was now having a very hard time breathing. This wasn't happening. James stepped forward and Draco stepped back, stumbling over a root. "And – and it's nobody. Just – just…"

"Let's see," James said and grabbed the robes and whipped them off as though he were unveiling a statue or a trophy. His eyes widened and his fists clenched. His face went white. "You killed my son."

"I did not!" Draco shouted. James reached out and took Harry from him in a swift movement. Draco reached towards him but James backed up, pulling out a wand. "First your lot kill me and my wife, and then my son? What did he ever do to you?" James snarled, the hand holding his wand shaking. "You Malfoy's are all the same. All a bunch of murderers."

"I haven't murdered anyone!" Draco pleaded, not afraid for his life but instead afraid of having Harry taken away from him. It was a strange feeling. A light shot from James' wand and hit Draco square in the chest, sending him stumbling backward into a tree. He hit his head and his vision unfocused for a moment and when he could see properly again, Harry was on the ground and James was only a few inches away from him.

"You'll never be better than Lucius. You'll never be anything. You'll always be a Malfoy, Draco," James said in a low, threatening voice. "You left Harry and he died because of you. You'll always be a _murderer._"

Draco sunk down against the tree, tears trickling down his face.

"You're right. Is that what you want to hear? I'm a Malfoy, I'm a Death Eater, and I'm a murderer. I killed Dumbledore and I killed Harry. It's my fault," he sobbed, hastily wiping his cheeks, smearing blood across them. "Is that what you want from me?" He shouted, and James reached out and grabbed Draco's neck.

"Malfoy?"

"You'll never amount to anything. Harry will never accept you. You're _nothing _to him."

"Draco!" this voice sounded familiar, but Draco was preoccupied. "Draco, it's just an illusion!"

Suddenly James disappeared and in his place stood Harry. Alive Harry. Bright green eyes and a worried expression on his face. Draco was visibly shaken. He was trembling from head to foot and he placed a hand against his neck. It had been so real. Everything had been so real. Harry had been dead and then his father was there and… Draco only realized now that he was clutching onto Harry's shirt and sobbing.

"Draco, it's okay. It wasn't real. None of it was real," Harry said and his voice was soothing. Draco felt numb. Harry pulled him into his arms and he was suddenly safe. He wasn't alone anymore. And most importantly: Harry wasn't dead.

"I'm sorry," he croaked. In the back of his mind he was admonishing himself for making such a fool out of himself. For crying in front of Harry, for believing that James was real. It was easy to believe that Harry really had been dead, but James coming back from the dead should have tipped him off. And yet, he could really think of none of this. His only coherent thought was that Harry was holding him and everything was all right.

"What are you sorry for?" Harry asked, and Draco pushed himself away from him gently, wiping at his eyes.

"I said I wished you were dead," Draco said quietly. "I really, really don't want you to die."

Harry smiled. "The feeling's mutual. Now, here, you're getting blood all over your face," he said, taking his sleeve and wiping Draco's eyes and cheeks. Wait. Blood? If it was all an illusion, how did he get blood on his hands? He looked down and realized that it was himself that was bleeding and his hand was sticky with his own blood. He must've stressed his hand, because the bandages were soaked with blood and it was dripping down his fingers.

"Come on," Harry said, helping him up. "I know of a place we can go."

"Wait," Draco said, breathing deeply. He may not have been a Gryffindor, but he had to have gained something out of this entire experience.

"What?" Harry turned around and looked at him, and Draco was struck by how genuinely curious Harry seemed.

"Just this," Draco said, and stepped forward, wrapping his hand around Harry's neck and kissing him with everything that he had left in him. Harry was obviously surprised since he stiffened, but quickly relaxed, wrapping his own arms around Draco. It was comfortable and sweet and passionate. It was everything Draco had never been before and it was amazing.

When he pulled away, Harry was grinning at him.

"You really don't hate me, then."

"Oh no," Draco said, out of breath. "I still really hate you."


	13. Credit Where Credit Is Due

"What is this place?"

Harry and Draco had finally managed to find their way out of the dim forest just before sunrise. They'd run into Anubis chasing his tail on the way out (Harry had been worried about him, but Draco had assured him many times that Anubis could take care of himself. His hide was practically impenetrable) and he was now following along diligently. Harry had been told to look for a manor at the top of a hill. It certainly stood out, except it looked far creepier than Harry would have liked. It stood tall (albeit somewhat tilted) and black against the sunrise, which didn't increase the mood of the grounds.

As they walked towards it, they had to pass through a creaky old gate that was rusted iron. It was clear that the forest had once extended here but the majority of it had been cut down and the remaining trees appeared to be very dead. They were gnarled and old and gray, as though they'd been through a fire. So did the building, for that matter. Dead vines curled their way around the lawns and even the rosebushes were devoid of life.

"Are you sure we can trust this guy? I mean – look at this place. Everything's dead," Draco said in a hushed tone as though the Doctor were listening in. Harry had explained to Draco on the way about his experience in the forest, mostly to reassure Draco that he wasn't the only one visited by weird ghosts of the past, although Draco still refused to divulge everything he'd seen. In fact, all Harry had caught of the show was a dead body on the ground, which he didn't care to examine, and someone who, from behind, looked exactly like himself. Except taller.

"He seemed nice enough. Crazy, but okay," Harry said, although he was beginning to feel leery, too, about visiting the Doctor. As they approached the steps, he spotted someone on the steps. They appeared to be spreading ash on them, before dumping the rest into the flowerbeds. Harry exchanged a look with Draco, who had faltered in his footsteps.

As they neared, Harry realized that this wasn't the doctor, because it was very obviously a woman. Of course, Harry rationalized, the Doctor _could _have been a woman in another disguise. But he didn't care to think about that .He cleared his throat and the woman spun around, her rather dated dress twirling about her. Whoever she was, she was incredibly beautiful. In fact, Harry wondered if even Fleur could match her beauty. The woman curtsied. Draco raised an eyebrow.

"You must be the visitors Doctor Kane told me about," she said a melodic voice, smiling at them. With their surroundings, Harry couldn't help but find her eerie.

"Why were you spreading ash on the steps?" Draco asked somewhat bluntly.

"Oh," the woman laughed. "The atmosphere scares away the villagers. They think this part of the land is haunted. My name is May," she curtsied again. "And you are…?"

"I'm Harry and this is Draco," Harry said and followed the woman as she opened the door and stood out of the way to allow them to pass. Draco hesitated and Harry grabbed his forearm (he couldn't very well grab his hand – either of them) and pulled him behind him. Harry smiled awkwardly at the woman as she stared at them before laughing slightly. "Are you the doctor's daughter?"

"Something like that," boomed a voice from inside the Manor, and Draco jumped at Harry's side. The man Harry had met earlier descended a large staircase with flourish. He'd changed, obviously, into a bright purple cape and a tailored black suit. He gave a sweeping bow and ended up tripping over his own cape. May giggled. "May, would you stop that and cook these gentlemen some breakfast?"

"Yes, Sir," May replied and hurried off to a side room.

Inside the Manor was the complete opposite of the grounds. It was so bright and cheerful that Harry had to blink a few times to get used to the atrocious use of color. The room they were currently standing in was a lime green with pink tile. Despite it's harsh colors, the Manor suddenly seemed very warm and welcoming.

"Now. Welcome to my home," the Doctor said, coming forward and shaking Harry's hand. He made to shake Draco's but realized quickly that he couldn't and chuckled, to which Draco gave a sour look. "You both are more than welcome to stay as long as you like. Merlin knows I haven't had visitors in nearly four decades. Over breakfast you shall tell me about your travels and how you got to my island and I will tell you all about myself, if you so wish."

"He seems incredibly cheerful for a man who's lived alone for forty years," Draco whispered to Harry, glancing about at the tapestries and artwork that hung from the walls.

"Ah, but you see, I'm not alone," the Doctor winked at Draco, and Draco stepped back a bit and hid somewhat behind Harry. Harry wasn't sure if he felt this was endearing or annoying. Particularly since it appeared that Draco intended to use him as a human shield, should anything go wrong, and not expect Harry to protect him any other way. "I live with May, whom I can't get rid of no matter how hard I try. And occasionally I visit the cannibals, they are wonderful cooks – so long as you're not on the menu. And I have the Aunts."

"The Aunts?"

"Come," the Doctor gestured for them to follow and he walked through a set of double doors to the left of the room. Through them was another brightly colored room, this time purple, but they quickly passed through it and into a hallway. Along the hall were an endless amounts of motionless portraits – not because they couldn't move, but because they all appeared to be in deep sleep. Harry bumped into a table and one of the portraits awoke, scolding him and lecturing him on how rude it was to wake someone when they were sleeping.

The Doctor had laughed and told him not to fret. Apparently these portraits weren't at all friendly and liked to lecture everyone one on everything. Through this hall and that, Harry found the place to be quite a maze. Eventually they came to a small, sky blue study. At the very end of the room was a floor to ceiling window that displayed the gloomy grounds and the dark forest they had only an hour ago come out of. On the other side of the room was a fireplace and above it, two portraits of elderly, plump woman.

Despite the early hour, the woman were chatting away and appeared to be drinking some sort of chardonnay. Upon realizing they were no longer alone, they stopped and peered at the visitors.

"My word, Scarlet! The Doctor has visitors!" the left woman cried, her cheeks a rosy red and she practically bounced in her portrait.

"I do say you're right, Violet," the right woman said, and Harry couldn't help but laugh at their names, for you see, Violet wasn't violet at all, but instead she was dressed in all reds, and the one named Scarlet was dressed in purple.

"These, my boys, are the Aunts."

"Are you related?" Harry asked, looking over at the Doctor.

"Oh no. In fact, I picked the pair of them up at an auction once when I lived in the civilized world," the Doctor chuckled. "As I'm sure you've deduced, they are twins and the right is Scarlet and the left is Violet. I call them the Aunts because they act very much as too nosy aunts would."

"We are not nosy!" both women cried at the same time.

"Shall I show you to your rooms or would you like to have something to eat first? I'm sure May has breakfast prepared already," the Doctor said.

"Food would be fantastic," Draco said excitedly.

"First I think we should get _you _fixed up properly. I will not have a bloody hand like _that _at the table," the Doctor said, and directed Draco to a chair. Draco looked extremely nervous about being under this strange man's care, but Harry had no problem with letting the other boy. There was something familiar about the Doctor. It was the same feeling of familiarity he'd felt earlier.

The Doctor took out a wand and twirled it between his fingers, nearly sending it sailing across the room. For a Doctor, he was extremely clumsy. He took the bandages of Draco's hand and conjured a bucket to put them into. Afterwards, he twisted Draco's hand this way and that, examining the damage the arrow had done.

"Ah, the work of cannibals. Usually they don't try to skewer their meals," the Doctor said, before a gold glow came to the end of his wand and he began to mend Draco's hand.

"It was revenge," Harry said, taking a seat nearby. "He stole Anubis from them for me," at this he smiled, and Draco looked away.

"Ah, you mean that great dog that playing about in my yard?" the Doctor said as he finished with Draco's hand and directed his attention to his shoulder. "I've seen him before. A few years ago when I went on a hunting expedition. He was much littler then. They called him the God of All Dogs. They worshipped him, I believe. I think they thought he would protect them from disease and such."

"Then how come he was chained to a pole?" Draco asked.

"Probably because he didn't protect them very well," the Doctor said with a grin. "And he was a runaway, as I come to recall. There, all better. Any other damages in need of repair?" Both boys shook their heads. "Fantastic. Time for breakfast then."

As they walked back through the brightly lit halls, Harry watched as Draco continually stretched his arm and wiggled his fingers. He hadn't been able to move them at all throughout these past few days, and he seemed to be relishing this moment. Harry couldn't help a faint smile.

Quite suddenly, what smelled like pancakes, maple syrup and sausages hit both boys like a brick wall. It was an absolutely glorious smell, and Harry picked up pace. Besides that bird he'd had when they had made camp for the first time, this would be his first meal in nearly five days. Both boys were absolutely famished. The dining hall was well decorated, with hardwood floors that gleamed and large windows and even the ceiling was made of glass.

Of course, the boys weren't paying attention to the lavishly designed hall, but what was on the table in the middle of the hall. Indeed there were pancakes and sausages and syrup, kippers and toast and bacon and every other breakfast food Harry could imagine.

"After you," the Doctor said and bowed again with flourish. Harry and Draco both quickly sat down at the table, and even Draco abandoned all manners and dug straight into the food. Even Harry was amazed at how much Draco ate. It seemed completely unlike him, but Harry was equally as starved and packed away even more than Draco had.

"Thank you," Draco said afterward, and Harry leaned back in his chair.

"That's the third time you've said Thank You since we've come to this island," Harry said, a slight smirk on his own features. "It must be a personal best for you."

"Stuff it, Potter," Draco snapped, biting into another piece of toast.

"Once you're finished, May will show you to your rooms, won't you, May?" the Doctor said. He was currently sitting at the end of the table, eating what appeared to be some sort of candy. May nodded before clearing away the plates and disappearing into what Harry could only assume was the kitchen.

"She's lovely," Harry said, and was a bit surprised when Draco kicked him under the table.

"Yes, she is, but I can't take credit for any of it. No genetic makeup could ever produce a girl like that," the Doctor said, looking off in the direction May had gone. "She's a botched experiment, actually."

"She doesn't look botched," Harry said, curious. Again Draco kicked him, this time glaring at him as though Harry had said the most horrible thing in the world and again, Harry was surprised.

"Well, no, she's very nearly perfect," the Doctor said. "As you seen earlier, I have a hobby of playing with illusions. That's all she was meant to be, but then I couldn't get rid of her. And then she became real – at least, in the tangible sense. I don't believe she has any real thoughts. She simply does what I tell her, too. I've tried to get rid of her many times, usually through magic. Once I left her in that forest in hopes that would get rid of her, but she found her way home…"

"That seems a bit inhumane," Draco commented.

"Inhumane?" Harry blanched. This coming from a Death Eater?

"It is impossible for it to be inhumane. She's not human," the Doctor chuckled. "But I understand your concern. This was before I had any idea what to do with her. She'd simply follow me around like a lost puppy and you can understand, for a man like myself who prefers to be alone most of the time, she got a bit… annoying. And unlike you gentlemen, she can't hold a decent conversation."

May arrived and smiled at the Doctor.

"I can show you to your rooms now," she said, curtsying again.

"How many times have I told you not to do that? You only need to curtsy once," the Doctor admonished and May blushed.

"Thank you," Harry said and excused himself from the table. Draco quickly followed, obviously not wanting to be left alone in the room with the Doctor. Either that or he didn't want to leave Harry alone with May, Harry wasn't sure, but he couldn't help but feel slightly smug at the idea of Draco being jealous. But who could blame him, really?

After walking through a maze of interesting hallways that twisted and turned and Harry was sure that they were even walking sideways at one point and defying gravity, they eventually stopped in one of the hallways.

"Would you and your boyfriend like to share a room?" May asked.

"I'm not his –" Draco began to protest.

"That'll be fine," Harry said, eyeing Draco out of the corner of his eye. She opened one of the doors, curtsied, and walked away back down the hall to do who knew what.

"What if I don't want to share a room?" Draco asked, folding his arms over his chest and drumming his fingers against his arms. Harry had a sneaking suspicion Draco hadn't stopped moving his fingers since his hand had been repaired. Harry looked at him and shrugged.

"Fine, go catch her then," Harry said and walked into the room, beginning to close the door behind him, and sly look on his face that he quickly masked when Draco kept the door from closing. He glared at Harry.

"I hate you," Draco said, his eyes narrowed in Harry's direction.

"I know," Harry said cheerfully, before moving to sit on the bed. "I'm exhausted."

"_You're _exhausted?" Draco asked incredulously. "I walked at least a mile with a dead body –"

"You were carrying a dead body?" Harry asked. "First – how? You're arms were all wrecked. Second – who was it?"

"It wasn't anybody," Draco answered stubbornly, poking through an antique looking wardrobe. He picked out pajamas and grinned when he saw that they were silk. Harry had to hide behind his hand to keep from laughing. Draco tossed a pair at Harry, and they both changed quickly. Harry managed to crawl into the large, king-sized bed before Draco, and he promptly stole most of the covers, which was a hard task since there were a _lot _of them. He placed his glasses on the nightstand.

After Draco crawled in, staying close to the edge of the bed, Harry prodded him in the back.

"What?"

"I told you about Cedric. I think you should tell me what you saw," Harry said, curious as to what Draco had been so distraught about in the forest. He wasn't trying to be particularly cruel in any way to Draco, but he felt he should know because he couldn't protect Draco from it if he hadn't any idea what it was. He was then surprised at himself for even thinking that he wanted to protect Draco. "Never mind," he said quickly. "You don't have to tell me. I understand."

Draco could take care of himself.

Harry rolled over onto his side and closed his eyes. Draco shifted and Harry could feel the other boy's eyes boring into the back of his head.

"You never told me how much you look like your dad," Draco said softly, and Harry rolled over quickly.

"What?" he asked, his eyes widening.

"That's what I saw. At first I saw you, and you were dead. And it was horrible, and then I saw your dad. He was just – there. I don't know why," Draco said softly, not looking at Harry, and instead looking at his hand, which rested on the pillow next to him.

"What did he say?" Harry asked, equally as quiet. He bit the inside of his lip. Draco hadn't seemed that distraught over the body. Maybe he was, but it seemed that whoever had been standing over him when Harry got there had done the real damage. It was hard to think that something that had some semblance to his father could hurt anyone like that. He swallowed thickly. "You were saying something about your father when I got there…"

"He – It. It said I wasn't going to amount to anything. That I'd murdered you and that I was just like my father," the blonde boy answered softly. "It was right, though. We're going to go back to the war and I'm going to have to go back to being a Death Eater and – and I am just like my father and I don't want to be but I haven't got a choice…"

"You always have a choice," Harry said, reaching forward and brushing Draco's hair out of his eyes. He seemed as though he'd been trying to hide behind it. "You don't have to follow them if you don't want to."

"I have to protect my mother. That's why I'm a Death Eater. They'll kill her otherwise."

"I told you I don't like to see you hurt, and I meant it. The Order can protect you and your mother. I can protect you and your mother."

Draco suddenly smiled and gave a soft laugh.

"Mother wouldn't approve."

"Sleep," Harry commanded, and soon enough, they were both fast asleep.

- - -

**Author Notes: **Aw, aren't they cute? I'm sorry if it seems terribly out of character, but I can't contain the fluffiness. I adore the Doctor, and I can't wait until everyone finds out everything about him and the island – which is coming soon! Maybe even in the next day or so, because I think I may have three or four chapters left to go and we're done! The next one contains some major action between the two boys, so um. Yeah. Look out for that because I can't write smut for the life of me, so it'll be pretty bad. If you want, you'll be able to just skip over it. It might take a while to get the next chapter out, so be glad you've gotten four in such a short span. I hope you've enjoyed it thus far and remember to review! You all have been fantastic! Also, I've enabled Anonymous reviews - just don't spam me plz! XD


	14. Getting Harry

Despite the very large bed, when Harry awoke, he was lying on his back with Draco on top of him. Draco was still fast asleep, and Harry couldn't help but smiling slightly. He never thought that he'd feel this way about _Draco Malfoy _but he did. And it was strangely comfortable. It was as though they were meant to be like this. _Meant to be. _Harry laughed quietly at the idea. He and Draco? It sounded so ridiculous. He could just imagine the looks on Hermione and Ron's faces. His chest tightened as he thought of them.

As much as he hated the island, he had this slight inclination not to leave. They'd go back to Scotland and they'd be thrown right back into the war. Did he really want that? He'd have a hard time convincing the Order that Draco was harmless – which he truly believed after spending a week alone with him. If anything, Draco was clumsier than he was and had a knack for getting himself into trouble. But Draco was terrified of being a Death Eater. Harry had seen that in his face when he'd told him about what had happened in the forest. He was terrified of becoming his father.

Harry sighed and draped his arm over Draco, closing his eyes and simply drinking in the moment. Comfortable, quiet and he absolutely didn't want it to end. Draco mumbled something before stirring. He stiffened in Harry's arms and it took a moment before he relaxed and put his head on Harry's chest. A small smile came to Harry's lips.

"You're drooling on my shirt," Harry said quietly without opening his eyes.

"I don't drool, Potter," Draco answered into Harry's chest.

"You drool cute drool."

"Ugh," Draco pushed himself away from Harry and rolled over onto his back. "Take that back. I don't drool and I'm _not _cute."

"So you say," Harry snorted, opening his eyes and looking over at the other boy, who was glaring at him. Harry reached over and grabbed Draco's arm and pulled him closer. Draco resisted for a moment, and Harry instinctively knew that this was going to take a lot of work. This was not going to be an easy relationship. Merlin, he'd said relationship.

He was doomed.

"If I didn't know better, Potter, I'd say you were trying to get in my pants."

Harry choked and Draco snickered at his reaction. "You wish," he said quickly.

"Maybe," Draco said, a sly look coming over his features and he pushed himself up and over Harry, so that he had an arm on either side of Harry's shoulders and he was straddling his waist. "Or maybe I want to get in _your _pants." He leaned over and pressed his lips against Harry's, running his tongue over Harry's bottom lip. His cold hands slipped under Harry's shirt and over his chest, causing a shiver to run up the Gryffindor's spine.

"I'm fine with that," Harry said as Draco pulled his lips away and leaned over him, kissing the edge of Harry's jaw before sucking gently on the other boy's earlobe. He groaned into Draco's throat. He reached around Draco and grabbed the edge of the blonde's shirt and pulled upward. Draco momentarily lapsed in his ministrations to remove the shirt himself, before returning to where he'd left off, licking and sucking his way down to Harry's throat.

Draco slid his hands under the waistband of Harry's pajamas, pulling them off slowly as he kissed and sucked his way down Harry's chest. Harry groaned again, running a hand through Draco's hair before the other boy made his way back up and Harry pressed his mouth against Draco's, kicking off his pants the rest of the way off before wrapping his leg around Draco's and pushing the other boy over so that he was now on top.

They were still lip-locked and Harry traced a finger along the scar on Draco's chest. He had certainly left his mark on the Slytherin, and although he regretted it, he couldn't help but feel smug about having some sort of mark on the boy. Draco was his.

Draco shimmied his way out of his own pajamas while pulling Harry's own shirt off. They were soon back to kissing, and it was entirely all tongues. A fierce battle for dominance, and currently, Harry had the upper hand.

"God," Draco moaned into Harry's mouth.

"What's he gotta do with it?" Harry breathed, pausing momentarily. Draco looked as though he was about to laugh, except that they were both completely out of breath and trying to get oxygen back into their lungs.

"I want you," he said into Harry's ear. "I really, _really _want you. I've never wanted anything so badly."

"You have me," Harry answered with a smile, kissing Draco softly. "You have all of me, I promise." He shifted slightly, grabbing his wand from under his pillow. After readying themselves, Harry took the lead. Harry wasn't a virgin, though many thought he was. He'd spent plenty of nights with Ginny, but she was different. She wasn't at all like this. They had been together out of need for someone, some sort of comfort. Harry was with Draco out of need for _him. _

It was slippery and shy and clumsy, but it was so good and right, and when Harry finally collapsed on top of Draco, he felt complete. This was how it was supposed to be. And he didn't want to ever let this go.


	15. The Eyeland

Harry found finding their way around the manor was extremely difficult. They passed through several rooms twice, walking through one hallway nearly four times before finally finding the main staircase. He then had to go to the Doctor's office first before he could even begin to proceed his way to the dining hall; since that was the way they had gone earlier. When he ended up in the office, he found the Doctor sitting behind the desk, scribbling into a book with a quill. The Aunts were tittering away. Draco wasn't behind him any longer and had probably gotten lost, but Harry found himself less worried about him lost in the Manor rather than lost out in the forest.

"Oh, sorry," Harry said when the creak of the door interrupted the Doctor's proceedings. "I didn't mean to disturb you, I was just heading to the dining room. May stopped by our room and said breakfast was ready, so I'll just be going now."

"It's quite alright," the Doctor said cheerfully, closing his book and putting his quill away. "I actually wanted to speak with you about how you came here. Take a seat," the Doctor stood and pointed to the chair on the opposite side of the desk with flourish. Harry moved across the room and took the chair offered to him. "You see, I came to this island during the great World War and cast many, _many _charms around it to keep others out. I've seen enough of war in my time, so you can understand that I wanted solitude. But I cast so many wards on the place that I found that even _I _couldn't get off the island. The villagers think it's a curse put on them, but it applies to everyone, you see.

"What I can't understand is how you got here, and I wish to know all the details so that I may unlock the secret to getting off this dratted island," the Doctor explained, peering over a pair of reading glasses. "And I'm sure you don't want to stay here forever."

"No – I mean, you have a lovely place but… well, there's a war going on now, Sir, and I'm a – a leader of sorts and I'm afraid that they won't get by without me," Harry answered. "As to how we got to the island – we really haven't any idea. The thing is, Draco and I were on opposite sides of the war and we cast spells at each other and they just sort of… blew up in our faces and we ended up here."

"What spells did you cast?" the Doctor asked, looking immensely intrigued and excited.

"Um. I cast a displacing spell to move our enemies to the furthest place I could think of. I said _Tractus Amitto _and I'm not sure what spell Draco cast, but the words were _Tempus Embolium_," Harry explained, watching a toy soldier move about the Doctor's desk. "There was this gold light and when it disappeared, we were on the beach on the other side of the island."

"Quite, quite," the Doctor said, his chin in his hands. "I've got it. You wait here a moment while I fetch a few books from the library," he said excitedly, jumping up and nearly knocking over his chair. "Feel free to talk to the Aunts. It may take me a while to find my books." Harry nodded and the Doctor dashed out of the room.

Harry, now alone in the room with nothing but the portraits to keep him company, stood and walked about, examining the odds and ends the office held. It reminded him of Dumbledore's old office, the way he always had trinkets that didn't seem to have any purpose lying about.

"Doesn't he look like the Doctor when he was younger, Scarlet?" one of the Aunts said, jerking Harry out of his thoughts and memories of his old Headmaster. "The messy hair and all."

"He really does, doesn't he, Violet? Except the Doctor had that nasty scar on his forehead, all disfigured and the like. This boy hasn't got a scar at all," Scarlet said, and Harry raised an eyebrow in surprise. There was a small trophy-like object on the mantelpiece of the fire and Harry examined himself in its reflective surface. No, his scar was still there.

"But I do have a scar," he said, looking up at the Aunts and they both leaned forward as best they could in their portraits, and the left Aunt even dug out a pair of specs.

"My word! He really does have a scar on his forehead," Violet cried, placing a hand on her chest, apparently taken back by surprise. "How fascinating. How did you get it?"

"I got it as a child," Harry answered, now puzzled. The Doctor had had a scar when he was younger, too? But his head looked perfectly fine now. Harry then remembered that the Doctor was a master of illusions. It was quite possible that he'd simply covered it with an illusion.

"Ah, the Doctor got his in war, so he says. In a great battle! He often regales his days of war to us, you know, when he's lonely and reminiscing," Scarlet said, sipping at a glass in her hand. "In 2000 something or other. He always says 2000, but I think he means the 20th century, after all, it's only 1990 something by our calculations."

"1997," Harry said, taking a seat in the sofa by the fireplace, thoroughly puzzled.

"He was famous back in his day, he once said to me," Violet said in a wispy voice.

"He never said that to me!" Scarlet said indignantly.

"You were sleeping. You're always sleeping," Violet admonished. "They were losing the war, you see, and the Doctor was nearly entirely by himself. He didn't have the heart to carry on so he came here. He bought us a bit before that, but you see, people kept coming and knocking at his door here so he charmed the entire place up and began a self-imposed exile. When he wanted to go back to the civilized world to see what had become of it, he couldn't, the poor dear."

"I thought it was because he lost his true love," Scarlet questioned. "They were losing the war and he lost his true love and that was what disheartened him so."

"No, no. He never had a true love to begin with."

"Yes, yes, he did! It just wasn't reciprocated."

"You're getting it all wrong again, Scarlet, he loved that boy but he never told him so," Violet sighed. "She was never a very good story teller. Then the war was lost and he came here."

"I remember now! He charmed this place all up because of the last person that showed up told him the boy he loved had died."

"Oh yes, that was the way it went. Anyway, here we all are today."

"Who is the Doctor, anyway?" Harry asked.

"It is hard to figure out, isn't it?" said the Doctor from behind Harry, and Harry turned around quickly. "The Aunts can never get a story straight," he chuckled before sitting back at his desk, setting a pile of books down on it. "First it's this, then it's that. Perhaps I should tell you my entire story myself. First I'd like to show you, something."

The Doctor plucked a book off the top of the pile he'd carried in and opened it to a marked spot. He then picked another one out of the pile and opened that one, too, to a marked spot. They were the spells Harry had told the Doctor that he and Draco had cast. He pushed them forward and allowed Harry to read for himself.

Harry already knew about his spell, but he was surprised to find that Draco's spell had been a spell cast to stop time. He wasn't sure why Draco would want to have stopped time, or how it could have countered Harry's spell, however, so once he was finished reading, he looked to the Doctor even more confused than before.

"I don't understand."

"I thought not," the Doctor said. "But before I explain that to you, I'll tell you about the island and who I am. I'm very sure it will clear some things up.

"I became a Doctor in 2004. That's seven years from now. Not a normal muggle doctor, of course, I neither have the skill for that or the patience. In fact, I couldn't even heal a wizard until I was nearly forty-five. I once attempted to heal a girl I was fighting with and ended up removing all the skin from her arm. It was horrible. But anyway, I became a Doctor of Magical Science. A new path the Ministry had created. It was not for diseases or genetic purposes, it was entirely a section devoted to creating new magical weaponry to fight against the very people you are fighting now.

"I was never very good at it. I solely wanted to go out and fight and defeat the greatest menace of our time – Voldemort," the Doctor continued with flourish. "You see, I took the job because one of my best friends died in a moment I will never forget. I thought it was a good idea. In the end, this section of the Ministry destroyed us. The Death Eaters took over the Ministry of Magic and used the weapons we had devised against us. They killed everyone I ever loved, and so I came here.

"I found this island by chance and luck. I apparated away, as far as I possibly could and I ended up here. I'm not sure how it happened or why. When one of the last people I trusted showed up at my door, I was surprised and worried. They were dying, you see, hit with a degenerative spell, one that even I couldn't fix, and I had fixed many back in my day. They simply came to tell me everything that I had missed and escaped. I was unsurprised by most of what he told me until he told me that a man that I had loathed with every fiber of my being died trying to save him.

"The thing was that since my years in Hogwarts, I always knew there was something in this man that I hated that was good. Something smart and intelligent, and I was fascinated by him. Yes, I hated him for a very long time, but after a while I begun to see that he was merely doing what he had to do to survive. And I thought he was incredibly strong and willful, and I found myself loving him despite knowing that he was everything I should hate. He had been the one that had killed one of my best friends and yet I forgave him, because in my heart, I loved him, no matter what he did.

"It was blind and foolish. But I grew so angry and so saddened, that I warded this island so defensively that it warped the very fabric of time around it. This island is neither in your time or my time. The only way to get off or on it is to astral project yourself, but it seems you have found a way around it and I now understand why.

"You and I are connected, you see," the Doctor finished. "I thought when I sent my message out that there was a small chance it would be received. I didn't expect it to change everything I knew."

"Wait – I don't understand. How has anything changed? How do you know?" Harry asked, entirely confused by the man's story. None of it seemed to make sense or even seemed relevant to their current situation.

"Because you're here," at Harry's confused look, the Doctor continued. "I am a Master of Illusions, you recall." He stood, sweeping his robes and taking his wand out of his sleeve. He tapped his own head and it appeared to Harry that he seemed to be melting away. But underneath the façade of the Doctor, was the man that Harry had found so familiar to him before. Of course, it made sense now. The Doctor slid his wand across the desk towards Harry.

The Doctor was shorter than average, but rail thin. His hair was gray and long, but still messy, as the Aunt's had described it. Beneath the reading spectacles were two very bright green eyes, and above his right was a grotesque, lightning shaped scar.

"You're me."

"I am," the Doctor said, taking a seat. "I am Harry James Potter – or what is left of him."

"But – are you kidding? I mean, you've fooled me before, how do I know this is real?" Harry asked, stunned and taken off guard.

"My wand is proof," the Doctor said and Harry now looked at it. He laid his own wand beside it and they were identical, save for the scratches and worn marks on the Doctor's.

"But why Montague Kane?"

"I couldn't very well tell you I _was_ you," the Doctor said. "I was surprised to see you in my forest and even more surprised to see you with Draco."

"So – so all of that was…"

"In my timeline, at the precise moment that yours and Draco's spells connected in _your _timeline, Draco murdered Ron Weasley. He had meant to kill you, of course, but you had moved and it hit Ron instead. It had been fear that drove him, not any inclination of hate towards you or your friends," the Doctor – or rather, the older Harry Potter said.

"So this message…"

"I sent a message in the form of a dream to Draco. I wanted to change history. I know, history should not be changed, but I couldn't let Voldemort win. And I couldn't let the man I loved die again and again forever in history. I simply told him that you – or I – could help him," the Doctor said softly. "And the test I did earlier… I did not have to read your mind to know your memories. I was testing to see if you loved Draco even now, as a teenager. I didn't realize my love for him until I was much, much older."

"This is entirely…"

"Confused, yes, I know, even I had a hard time comprehending it for the longest of times," the Doctor said, taking his wand and slipping it back up his sleeve.

"But… you're telling me we won't win the war?" Harry asked, disheartened and trying to gather his thoughts.

"Oh no, I have every belief that you will win the war with Draco at your side. He will give you strength and courage and all of those other things," the Doctor said encouragingly. "I never defeated Voldemort. I gave up at the most critical of moments. I have confidence that you will not give up."

"But if we can't go back, how will I defeat Voldemort?" Harry looked at the books. How _would _they get back?

"I believe that your coming here has had some sort of effect on the island. I have seen birds come and go, when they haven't been able to before. You may not be able to apparate on and off the island, but I have ever belief that you can Floo."

"Floo? Are you serious?"

"Yes. And you will leave right away without a moment to spare, as soon as we find that dratted Malfoy," the Doctor said with a wink and Harry grinned. Mind-boggling was what this entire conversation had been, but it explained so many things and the fact that they were finally able to go home made everything else so small in comparison. He jumped up and practically ran for the door, eager to find Draco before a thought came to him.

"How do I know if Draco loves me, though?" Harry asked, looking back at the Doctor, who gave a sly smile.

"He does, I guarantee it. You wouldn't be here if he didn't," the Doctor winked again before waving his arms in an effort to shoo him off.

- -

**Author Notes: **Oh lord, that was poorly written – it was extremely hard to write. Yes! The Doctor _is _future!Harry. XD But how did Fleur and Bill get there, you ask? Well, that's not important, so there. And after explaining all that, I don't think I can explain much else. P If you notice any discrepancies, I would love you forever if you told me about them? This really is still just a first draft. BUT IT'S NOT OVER. No, we still have a chapter or so to go!


	16. I've Got A Plane To Catch

"Are you ready?" the Doctor asked, back in his disguise. He and Harry had decided not to tell Draco about the conversation they had. Maybe later, in the future, but both had felt Draco wouldn't entirely understand it. And that he would vehemently deny his part in any of it, because that was who Draco was. Anubis sat in the corner, obviously understanding the mood because he was whimpering softly. Harry had agreed that he should stay with the Doctor – the island was Anubis' home. Harry was currently stroking the top of the dragon's head, and Draco was fixing his robes for whatever reason, Harry wasn't entirely sure.

"Yes, I think so," Harry said, standing up and brushing his hands off on his pants, walking forward toward the fireplace. "Not like we have many souvenirs from our trip."

"Except scars," Draco muttered and both Harry's laughed. Draco looked at them curiously, before shaking his head, crossing his arms and pouting.

"Right, then," the Doctor said, pulling a small box out of his desk and walking over with it. "Floo powder. It's a bit old but I think it will work fine," he said cheerfully, his eyes twinkling as he watched Draco take hold of Harry's hand. Both boys took a bit and hoped for the best.

Draco went first, shouting 'Hogwarts!' before disappearing into the flames. When Harry was left alone with the Doctor, he turned to face him.

"Will you be alright?" he asked.

"Oh, I'll be fine, so long as you're happy," the Doctor said, a knowing look on his face but he didn't divulge any information. What Harry didn't know and couldn't see was that the Doctor was fading as they spoke. Without the future he had described – a future without Draco, he would no longer exist and a new, better Harry would take his place. "Go on, then. I'm sure you're friends will be happy to see you."

"Goodbye then," Harry said turning to the fire before pausing. "Thank you. Goodbye, Scarlet, Violet. Maybe I'll find you in the future," he said with a grin, before throwing the Floo powder into the fire and shouting 'Hogwarts'. He put one foot in, then another and was gone. As he was swirling between the fireplaces, he noticed something. First he felt it – something brush against his leg. And then he saw it.

"Anubis!" he shouted, grabbing a hold of the dog to keep him from leaping out of some stranger's fireplace and scaring them half to death. He bumped his elbow against several other fireplaces before toppling out of the Hogwarts fireplace, Anubis falling on top of him, before licking the soot of Harry's face, his glasses askew.

"Thanks," he grumbled, wiping the slobber off his face. He stood up, cleaning his glasses on his shirt before placing them back on his features and getting up. It was then he realized that there were other people in the room. The rest of the Order. And they all had their wands pointed at Draco, who was currently standing wide-eyed with his arms in the air.

"Will you do something?" he said out of the corner of his mouth and Harry grinned.

"It's okay. He's not going to do anything, I promise. He's with me," Harry said, reaching over and snatching Draco's hand out of the air and holding it in his own. Anubis barked at his side. "Uh – and so is he."

- - -

"Ugh! Would you two stop snogging for two seconds?" Ron snapped, his arms folded over his chest, watching Harry and Draco with a look of disgust on his face. "Just because we won doesn't mean you have to suck each other's faces off."

"Oh, lighten up, Ron," Hermione admonished. "We've won the war. They deserve a little time together after everything."

"Hermione, they've been doing that since the day they got back from that island place that Harry _still _hasn't really told us about," Ron said with a slight whine. "It's gross."

"Oh, shut up, Ronald," Hermione said, before kissing him lightly on the lips and grinning, before hurrying away and hugging an Order member or two, leaving Ron dazed under a piece of mistletoe.

"Yes, Ronald, do _shut up,_" Draco sneered, peering over Harry's shoulder.

"Draco, be nice."

"Do I have to?"

"Do you want to have sex tonight?"

"AUGH!" Ron cried and ran to Hermione, his hands over his ears, nearly tripping over Anubis as he did so.

- - -

And they all lived Happily Ever After.  
Except for Ronald, who never got used to the noises coming from Harry and Draco's room.

- - -

**Author Notes: **Bwahaha! Wow. I'm done. Amazing. I hope you've enjoyed it. The ending is a bit short, but I didn't feel like I had much else to add. Review, review, review!


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